


Destined

by AddisonAddek



Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Chicago Police Department, Detective, Drug Abuse, Drugs, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Exploration, Motherhood, Romance, Strippers & Strip Clubs, inner turmoil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-16 02:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 58,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21499987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AddisonAddek/pseuds/AddisonAddek
Summary: If Voight hadn't had rescued Erin from the streets, her life wouldn't have gotten any better. He wouldn't have helped her become the strong and independent woman she was meant to be. She wouldn't have met Detective Jay Halstead and fall in love with him the way she was meant to. She would've been broken and lostA Chicago P.D. Inspired FanFiction.Lindsay/Halstead#Linstead
Relationships: Jay Halstead & Erin Lindsay, Jay Halstead/Erin Lindsay
Comments: 39
Kudos: 52





	1. I

** Chapter I **

_7:16pm_

She looked as though she would pass out at any given second. With her glassy red eyes and her matted hair that was tied into a ponytail, she was having the hardest of time trying not to freak out. Erin have been running across her tiny one bedroom apartment, looking for her keys. She swore she had left it by the dresser this morning but no matter how many times, she went back and forth across the small space, it was nowhere to be found.

"I'm going to be late! I'm going to be late!" she chanted to herself, still running around. She can't afford losing her job or not getting paid today, she needed the money.

That's what she kept saying.

Her job at Double Dzz was the only consistent being that had happened to her ever since she started working there almost six years ago. The job, though not a conventional one nor a reputable one, kept her afloat, kept the bill paid, electricity running and food in their stomachs. Even if it's just the bare minimum, they've survived worse.

There was only one rule in that rowdy establishment and that was to not be late. Being late equals to not being paid. And not being paid equals to not paying the bills or buying food. And not eating equals to death.

_Death_

She stopped to contemplate at thought of death, she wouldn't mind being a corpse at this point. No one would've even noticed she was gone. She could be lying dead in an alley and still no one would care. Her life have been and will always be miserably miserable. A struggle that could be dated back to her childhood.

She had accepted what was given to her. She had no choice but to. This was her life. Her fate. And her doing.

At times she would find herself thinking of ways to go, to run away, to leave from this world. A world where she didn't want to be in.

_Slitting her wrists._

But she was terrified at the sight of blood.

_Jumping off a skyscraper._

But what if she changed her mind halfway through the drop.

_Shooting herself in the head._

But that was too messy. Brain matter will splatter all over the walls.

_Overdosing on drugs._

But she can't do that. She can't be like her mother.

All that were just thoughts; she knew she couldn't do it. And she felt selfish and guilty for even having such inkings. She couldn't leave him here, all alone, motherless. Having practically grown up without a mother, she knows the struggle and she doesn't want him to face the world the same way she did.

She couldn't leave _Noah_.

One might think that, having an addict for a mother, she would've known what not to do to follow in her mother's footsteps. But one can only imagine how one mistake could lead to. One couldn't have ever known that it could have led to a never ending series of mistakes and regrets.

"Noah, Noah, shhhhh..."

Having a baby wailing on the top of his lungs wasn't helping in her finding her keys any faster. He's fussing about god knows what and Erin's about to bash her head against the wall.

Maybe that's a better way to die.

"Oh god! Noah, please stop crying! Just wait a second. Mommy needs to find her keys so she can work and buy you food and clothes." she cried, bouncing him on her hip ever so often as she still ran around the apartment.

But, like babies are, he didn't listen. And started squirming in her hold, only screaming even louder for attention. His ear screeching cries rang violently in her eardrums. She was sure it's only a matter of seconds before all her neighbours started banging at her door, yelling to shut her baby up.

"Ok. Ok. I'm sorry, Noah. Mommy's gonna get you your bottle." she switched him to her other side as her arm started cramping against his weight. She quickly got his bottle out from the cabinet and reached for the canister that was sitting on the counter.

The moment she opened the can, she felt the corners of her lips twitch into a frown. And all she wanted to do was to wail alongside her child. The barely-there specks of powder covered the bottom of the can.

It was almost empty.

"Shit!" she pinched the bridge of her nose. A migraine was forming.  
She was so tired and busy lately that she must have forgotten to buy his formula. She hadn't slept. She hadn't eaten all day, only a piece of toast, and was fuelled by caffeine and a couple of snorts.

What kind of a mother would forget to buy her baby his milk?

_A junkie._

A junkie was the answer.

She had turned into her worst nightmare.

She had turned into Bunny.

But the only difference between the two was that Bunny didn't become a screw up until Erin turned eleven. So, in other words, Bunny's a way better mother than her.

She can't help herself. She just needed that one blow to get her through the day. That's what she kept telling herself. Just one and that's it. Then she kept telling herself the same thing the next week and the next and the next.

A never ending cycle of defeat.

How can she be so selfish and stupid?

Noah managed to let loose another ear piercing scream before the water had even finished heating up. Pouring what was left of the milk powder, she let out a strangled cry. She stared deeply into the pale white colour mixture, she was ashamed.

She is Bunny.

"I'm sorry, love. Mommy will stop. She promise."

Again, that's what she've been saying for the last two months. Ever since she started using again.

"I promise you, baby." she smoothed her cold fingers on his chubby cheeks, wiping off his tears with a sigh as he began sucking on the bottle. With his little body pressed tightly in her arms, she rocked him, trying to get him to fall asleep.

"Oh Noah, you're gonna grow and have a good life. I gonna do what I gotta do."

The last ten months had been bitter sweet. Though it was a daily struggle, her love and devotion for her child kept her going.

"What would I do you, baby?" she asked softy. More to herself than anything. His light blue eyes blinked a few more times up at her before he grew too tired to keep his eye lids open.

She gently lifted him up to her shoulders; gently patting his back, humming a random tune that was playing in her head as she walked out the kitchen to get back to looking for her keys.

_7:32pm_

She sighed. There was no way in hell she was going to make it all the way to the West Side in time. Plus, not to mention dropping off Noah at her best friend's, Annie, house first.

It just wasn't possible.

A shiny object shone from underneath the couch. She rolled her eyes; it was the one she place she hadn't looked at.

* * *

"Bye, Erin. Be careful." Annie whispered, not wanting to wake the sleeping toddler in her arms.

"I will." Erin gave her a thin smile before placing a kiss on top of her baby's head, "Bye, baby. Mommy will be back in the morning."

It was hard.

Sometimes she had to remind herself that whatever she was doing was for a good cause, that one day it would all pay off. Even if it meant going through some very sketchy situations and paths for a while. Her son deserved better. A life that she never had.

* * *

She practically sprinted through the backdoors of Double Dzz in the hopes that Bunny didn't notice her being late. But that was impossible, she knew one of these ladies had already ratted her out.

She surveyed the area, behind the curtains, there stood numerous customers tonight. It was definitely a bachelor party. She was sure of it. And Erin can help but feel the pang of jealousy erupt from deep in her belly.

Half naked girls.

Belligerent drunk men screaming profanities.

It disgusts her.

She disgust her.

She was jealous of those girl since she could've made double tonight. Or even triple.

"You're late!" Bunny exclaimed the second Erin walked into the damp dressing room. The music blaring outside was still evident inside as it muffled and vibrated.

She scowled at her mother. Rolling her eyes as she plopped onto a chair. There was no point in arguing with Bunny, she wouldn't listen. Even to help her very own daughter, she wouldn't.

"Don't give me that attitude. You know the rules, dandelion."

"Bunny, can't you just give me a pass this once. There's a party out there and I could be making double tonight.

"The rules are the rules, sweetie."

"But I'm your daughter." she crossed her arms around her chest like a five year old that didn't get her way.

"All of you girls are my daughters."

Erin doesn't know if Bunny had said that with the cruel intent to break her heart but she'd like to think she didn't. She'd like to think that it was just a slip, that her mother loves her more than those bitches.

 _But I'm your real_ _daughter!_ was what she wanted to scream. Deciding against that since she really didn't have the energy to get into an argument with her tonight.

Maybe another night.

Erin narrowed her eyes at her mother, biting her tongue to refrain herself. That comment had hurt her more than she'd care to admit.

She shrugged, "What am I supposed to do then? I don't have any money for Noah's formula."

"Maybe you shouldn't have him in the first place. Maybe you should've gotten rid of him when you had a chance. I know I should have." she spat and Erin still refrained herself from punching her mother. Knowing very well that Bunny wouldn't think twice in firing her, her own daughter. Even when knowing this job was all she got.

"Get into something cute. You got clients tonight." Bunny said before closing the door.

Standing in the middle of the dressing room, she doesn't know if she should be glad or disgusted at herself.

* * *

This was the last client for the night and it was already past four in the morning. She had been working all night and almost all morning.

She was exhausted. She was sore, bruised and she don't think she could take one more asshole tearing up her insides anymore.

Spending the last fifteen minutes in the hotel bathroom trying to cover the forming bruise on her left cheek with makeup since the previous customer had gotten too rowdy and wanted to do something that she was uncomfortable with.

"You're a fucking prostitute. Who cares if you're uncomfortable!" he growled at her, landing a punch to her left cheek.

She gave in and did what he wanted.

She may be exactly that but that didn't mean she deserved to be treated like an animal.

She has feeling. Just like everyone else in this world.

Erin sighed inwardly as she entered yet another classy hotel room. Normally, people who walk into these sort of rooms would be somewhat happy. She was sure they would be feeling what she's feeling right now.

_Cheap_

One might think she must have gotten used to the feeling by now but she hasn't.

_Six years._

She was starting to think this was all she was worth for the rest of her life. This was who she'll be for the rest of her life.

It's been six years and she's still where she was six years ago.

Broke and broken.

_You're doing this for your boy._

But was she really doing all this just for Noah?

Her eyes were fixed on the man sitting on the bed in an expensive-looking suit. He wasn't bad looking just rough around the edges. But he was sneering at her like she was a rabid dog. She forced a smile to lighten the atmosphere. A fake smile that didn't show her dimple. A smile she had perfected in the mirror everyday. A smile that masked a deep seated regret. A smile that said _please don't kill me_. Every door she walked right into was like playing Russian roulette. She will never really know until she pull the trigger.

Studying him intently, she have had one too many clients just like him. One too many that looked like a trust fund baby, a brat. Rich and entitled.

A psycho stockbroker from The Loop.

The room looked cold and the air conditioning that was lightly blowing, wasn't helping either. Erin knew she had goosebumps all over her legs, the ones that were thin and spindly and covered in bruises. The leather skirt she had on barely covered her ass but it was what clients expected.

She wasn't one to disappoint.

"So I guess you had a long day at work." Erin whispered sexily, making her way over to the bed, straddling the man while loosening his tie with one of her hands.

"And you need something to destress..." she continued releasing the tie from under the man's shirt and started to unbutton his collar.

"What do you have in mind?" the man asked, playing along with Erin's act all the while kneading her ass that was readily available for him.

"Well," she started, unbuttoning his shirt further until all of the buttons were undone. "How about you do me?" she whispered into his ear, purposely pushing her breast into his face.

"I'll settle for that." the man said, kissing her roughly as she pushed him down so that he was laying on the bed with her still on top of him.

And that was that.

They had sex. Meaningless sex that did nothing for the both of them. But being this close to someone made her feel better for a while though. Not for long, only until those few seconds of intense high off of pleasure brought her back to the ultimate low.

Was the sex mind blowing?

No.

Does it pay the bills?

Yes.

Would she not do _this_ if she was given a choice?

Yes. But this was all she've ever known; to sell herself. That's what she excels at. With no degree, high school diploma or even a GED, she can't get a job. It's virtually impossible for a woman with a rap sheet as long as hers to ever find a job. It's impossible. Only a miracle could get her a new job. And miracles do not exist.

She never should've made that mistake.

The mistake that cost her her life.

She left with cash in her hand, the fake smile plastered across her face after she had whispered something dirty to the man to which he smiled. Now came the part she dreaded the most.

The walk of shame.

Walking out the lobby, she felt even more disgusted at herself than when she first walked in.

Eyes.

Dozens of pairs.

They were all gawking at her.

They know.

They know what had just went on upstairs.

Even through her long coat, she knows they know. She could be a businesswoman on a business trip. But that was far fetched.

They definitely know.

There was no way to mask what was dirty beneath.

_Her_.

* * *

It's already half past six in the morning when Erin finally got to go back home. Another long, exhausting day but she survived. That was all that mattered. She wasn't that badly hurt. Just a couple of bruises.

She'll live.

Erin threw the door open before shuddering at the blast of cold air that hit her face which was now free from makeup.

This was a ritual she had become accustomed to over the couple of years. She would look at herself in the mirror and see a life she didn't want others to see. A life that no one would want to be a part in. No one would ever want to be with someone who sells their body for a living. No one has and no one will. That's for certain.

So she would take a makeup removal wipe and slowly swipe across the colourful paint that hid who she really is.

A single mom with slight problem.

"$430." she shrugged. It was what she was left with after handing Bunny her twenty percent. Since she was the one who provided her with the customers, it is only fair that she gets a fair amount. Even she did all the heavy lifting.

Rent, electricity, groceries, debt, babysitting, miscellaneous expenses. At this point with $430, the only money she had at the moment, this life would never end. But it had to. She can't live this way for the rest of her life.

_Noah's formula. Noah's formula._

That was what she kept chanting to herself all night especially when that bastard sucker punched her, when all she wanted to do was run.

She'll make it her life's mission for Noah to never find out what she had to do to get through life. Never.

Tears formed in her eyes as she took a short walk to the grocery store. She looked down at her hands. Calloused hands and bony, she hated this life. She hated who she've become. If only she finished school, she probably wouldn't be in this position.

25 with no degree; it's too late for any positivity now.

She was so wrapped up in her head that when she turned a corner, her face collided into a man's chest.

The impact was so harsh that it literally took her breath away and she stumbled backwards.

Like Newton's third law of motion. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

"I'm so sorry. Are you alright, ma'am?" he asked as he tried to steady her by holding her arms.

"Yes. Now get your hands off me." she said and he quickly dropped his hands to his side. She hated being touched by men. It frightens her. They frighten her. They never really gave her a reason to not not be scared.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Yeah, sure, whatever assho-" she looked up at him, so ready to get blow up at him, so ready to scream at him. But just like that a sense of calm washed over her. Something she hadn't felt in ten months.

Ever since Noah was born.

He has the most calming shades of blue irises she've ever since. Just like Noah's.

She smiled. A genuine smile. The ones that showed her set of everlasting dimples. "Uh, no..."

He raised his eyebrows with a small smirk and cocked his head to the side. The curl of his lips as he clenched his jaw made her feel warm inside. She haven't felt this way in a very long time. Too long and now it almost seemed foreign.

She laughed a little, realising then that she didn't make any sense. "I mean thank you."

But then his expression changed, the smile that made her feel safe and warm was replaced a look of genuine concern. Nobody has ever looked at her this way.

Nobody.

Not her parents.

Bunny didn't even bat an eye or even care to ask about the black eye. She just went on about her day like it wasn't even there.

The bruise.

Of course he had noticed the discoloured patch of broken blood vessels.

"What happened to your face?" his voice laced with care that only seemed to infuriate her.

He doesn't care about her.

"Oh this." she huffed, brushing over the sting and she knows he noticed the large purple mark marring the skin in her wrist.

"Nothing. Just fell." she said, tugging at the material, covering the vice. She doesn't know why she felt the need to explain herself to a complete stranger.

He doesn't know her.

She doesn't know him.

Things should just stay that way.

With his knitted brows and narrowed blue pearls, she can sense that he doesn't believe her.

"If someone's hurting you I can help you."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at him.

Why was he doing this?

Why does he even care to ask?

Why doesn't he just mind his own business?

She doesn't need help and definitely not his.

"I'm fine. I don't need your help." she spat, side eyeing with more venom than necessary as she attempted to move past him.

Pulling something out of his back pocket, Erin watched as he open out his wallet. Her face scrunched in disgust. She doesn't need his pity money.

"Ma'am, here's my number. Feel free to call me if...you want." he said as he pulled out his business card.

Snatching the small card out of his hand, she felt a breath caught in her throat as their skin grazed. She shouldn't be feeling this way. It doesn't make any sense.

_Det. Jay Halstead_

Great. A cop.

Life had thought her to never trust cops. They only care for their own. Once they got whatever they needed, they just eventually throw you under the bus.

He wouldn't want to help her after finding out what she really does for a living. Dozens of girls just like her goes missing everyday, the cops are very much aware of the epidemic but they don't seem to care enough to do anything about it.

They're just worthless hookers who do not deserve respect for the profession they're in.

Enraged, "I don't need your help!" she thrusted the card harshly in his chest, "I'm not a charity case, Mr. Detective."

* * *

"Thank god! You're back!" Annie exclaimed as she turned around from where she and Noah sat reading on the couch upon hearing Erin enter the apartment.

"Mama!" Noah cried happily as he crawled down of Annie's lap and ran for his mother. Going as fast as his little legs prevailed with Annie right on his tail to make sure he didn't hurt himself.

"Hi, baby!" she gave a smile as she placed the groceries by the side of the door and hung her coat.

"I'm so sorry I'm late...had a long day, you know..." she said as she scooped Noah up in her arms who have given up on running after he stumbled and swiftly crawled the rest of the way to his mother.

"I was starting to get worried." Annie said quietly.

Erin understood her concerns. For all Annie knows, she could be lying dead in an alley.

"Anyway, we had lots of fun, didn't we, Noah?" she cooed to the toddler after the long silence. He quickly looked up at his mother and begun babbling incoherently.

Erin looked down at her miracle she had created. She was wrong; she's not alone. She has Noah to live for. Every time his piercing blue eyes fluttered up at her, she would fall deeper in love with him. She can't believe it was possible for her to create something so beautiful, so full of innocence, so pure and clean out of all wrongs in her life. She was nothing before him. He changed her for the better. Of all the mistakes she had ever made in her entire life, Noah was not one of them.

Annie left a while later after helping her make lunch. For the first time in months, she finally had a warm meal to comfort her. She had almost forgotten what chicken taste like. It was heavenly though it was a little dry.

She tried to focus on humming a random song to put her fussy baby to sleep since she as well desperately need one but the harder she tried to concentrate, the more he didn't leave her mind. She was so rude to him. He was just being friendly. She just wasn't used to people being nice to her for no reason.

But no one's ever friendly if they didn't want something in return.

"Detective Jay Halstead." she said in a whisper and smiled. He seemed like he would be amazing with kids.

Noah would've loved him.

It's a good thing she'll never see him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Started a new fanfic! Here's the first installment. Please feel free to review and let me know how it went! I'd love to know what you guys think about it! Thanks!


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Voight hadn't had rescued Erin from the streets, her life wouldn't have gotten any better. He wouldn't have helped her become the strong and independent woman she was meant to be. She wouldn't have met Detective Jay Halstead and fall in love with him the way she was meant to. She would've been broken and lost
> 
> A Chicago P.D. Inspired FanFiction.
> 
> Lindsay/Halstead  
> #Linstead

** Chapter II **

_4:56am_

Erin entered her small, rotting apartment and was greeted with the whiff of musk and emptiness. Trying to catch her breath since she had to climb up four floors on foot, she had her stilettos dangling off her index finger on one hand and a brown paper bag in the other.

What was in the bag, you ask?

_Vodka_

It was her true friend. Never will it judge her. Never will it leave her. Never will it disobey her. It was the one and only things that got her through the day, that allowed her to forget. Well, that and, of course, Noah.

She knows not to get wasted with him around. It wouldn't be what a good mother would've done.

_Like she's even a good mother..._

But still; she tries not to get Noah exposed to her bad decisions and questionable lifestyle. She knows better than to be Bunny.

And anyway, it's not like she drinks every single day, just maybe almost every day. But then again, that came with the job. Sometimes the guy's at the strip club would buy her drinks. Sometimes she'd decline their offer but most of the time she needed to wash down the disgust she felt.

"Shit!" she cried, holding up her foot as a stepped on one of Noah's toys.

She didn't stop by at Annie's to pick Noah up, figuring it was still quite early. The sun hasn't rose yet and she needed time to catch up on some much needed sleep, alone, without her son. As much as she loves her baby, she just couldn't stand him him recently.

At first, she freaked out when Noah hadn't start teething at six months. While all the mother's at the clinic were raving about how cute their babies looked with tiny white teeth growing on their pink gums, Noah still looked like an old man as he smiled.

_You're just a little late, baby. It's ok._

That was what she kept on telling Noah and her guilt self. But then the seventh, eighth, ninth and tenth month went by, his teeth still was not breaking out.

She knew it was her fault why.

He was born premature and was merely even three pounds. He was so tiny and still needed more time to develop inside her. But she was underweight, had high blood pressure, was constantly stressed and was still stripping, everything added up into her going into preterm labour.

She wasn't strong enough, both - mentally and physically.

That was her doing.

She had been drinking, smoking and experimenting on all sorts of drugs up until she found out that she was with child. And she was already three months along when she started noticing changes.

She was scared when she first found out. Of course she was. Knowing that she had to not only go through the pregnancy all on her own, but also, be a single parent, be a role model to this tiny human being, provide for the life she had created, give it the life she've never had. Having Noah terrified her.

She went to an OB clinic, very well knowing that she had to come clean with the doctor, very well knowing that she needed professional help, very well knowing that she couldn't do the detox all on her on. So for the first time since she started abusing illicit drugs, she wholeheartedly agreed to a week-long detox programme.

Now at eleven months, Noah had just finally started teething and she could be any happier. While she was very much ecstatic, she had totally underestimated how much more difficult it would be. He would cry all the damn time, even more than usual. It seemed like crying was the only thing he did all day long. She didn't know an infant could cry as much as he does.

Even chilling his favourite toy so he could chew on it to numb his gums, wouldn't work almost half of the time. He'd be fine for an hour or so then the waterworks started all over again.

But every time he cried, it broke a piece of her heart. She knows he's in pain, knows that he's crying for her to make it stop, but there's nothing she could do to help him. It was the way of life.

Erin dropped her keys down on the table beside the door and walked into her stingy apartment. Heading straight to the kitchen to chill the newly purchased bottle of Smirnoff in the refrigerator.

Sitting on the couch in the living room space while unlacing her corset, she listened to the hundreds of voicemails that Bunny and the other two clients had left her.

Shaking her head, she chuckled at the messages. She was hurt, to be honest, at their choice of words. In her twenty four years of life, she hadn't been called that many names.

_Slut_

_Lazy hooker_

_Cunt_

_Bad mother_

The list went on and on and on. Profanities after profanities. Demanding a reason for her absence. Demanding for her to service them. To do what she was born to.

The worst part was; it was Bunny who had said most of the hurtful things.

"It's bad for business bitch! Why'd ya leave two of our best clients hangin'?" Bunny's recorded message screamed before Erin turned the machine off.

"Because I'm sick, Bunny." she whispered as she made her way to the bathroom.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, it felt as though her brain was pounding against her skull. She've been feeling this way all week and now she doesn't know what to do. Going to the hospital wasn't an option. Not only did she not have insurance, she did not want to have to face the doctors and nurses once they found out what she does for a living.

They might have to ask her of her medical history or her family medical history.

_Generations of alcoholics/liver problems._

How long have you had the symptoms?

_Over a week._

Does it affect your feelings, home life or work life? How?

_Yes. She had to get off of her early. She hardly have the energy to get up out of bed in the morning._

What parts of the body does the symptom affect and does that change over time?

_Her brain and her entire body...and no._

Do you have any idea what may trigger your symptom?

_Yes..._

Do you take any medication, supplements or herbal remedies?

_Not exactly._

Have you ever, or do you currently smoke?

_Yes._

How often and how much alcohol do you drink?

_Sometimes. Not too much._

Do you or have you ever taken any recreational drugs?

_She have._

Have you had any pregnancies?

_Yes. One._

Were there any abnormalities or complications during any of the pregnancies?

_Yes. High blood pressure. A cause for her to go into preterm labour._

Are you sexually active?

Do you have more than one sexual partner?

Are any of your sexual partners of the same sex?

Do you use any method of protection?

Have you ever had an STD?

She knows she wouldn't want to answer those questions. It would be too humiliating.

Doctors aren't stupid. They have medical degrees for a reason. They know when someone's lying. And the moment she'll open her mouth, they'll instant know she's lying.

Most importantly, she didn't want to hear the truth. It could be nothing, she could be just psyching herself out. But with the industry she's involved in, it could be all different kinds of things. Things she definitely don't want to have or get Noah exposed to.

She sighed. Bunny never really cared for her, even as a child. So it wasn't a surprise when Bunny said she didn't give a rat's ass about her burning up when she told her she didn't have the energy to twirl around a pole.

Stripping out of her filthy and skimpy clothes, she folded them neatly into the laundry basket for this weeks' washing. At her day off, she would accumulate a weeks worth of dirty laundry to be taken to the apartment's laundry mat. She was pleased that her apartment had a laundromat which meant she didn't have to carry a bag filled with clothes on one arm and a fussy baby on the other all the way to the nearest laundry service, which was all the way up North, which meant taking the bus.

But before getting into the freezing shower, she stared at the reflection of an unrecognisable female. She swallowed in her protruding bones and her pasty skin. Even with all the make up, the dark circles were still evident.

She didn't like who she have become. She was ashamed. What started out as something temporary, a few months, turned into something long term.

_Six years._

This was the life she was leading now.

She climbed into the shower and pulled the shower curtain, letting the cold water wash over her dirty skin, letting the soap lather over her bruised, marked and scared skin.

Erin leaned against the wall of the shower as she listened to hustle of Fuller Park. Drunk, high idiots screaming, music blaring down the street, walls pounding, babies crying, it was a Friday night. It was expected.

_So what was she expecting?_

A quiet and peaceful night. Fuller Park isn't the suburbs.

"Idiot..." she muttered as she stood under the shower head, shivering, wanting nothing more than to run into her bedroom and put on some comfortable sweats. But the cold is the only way for her to feel clean again.

If she could turn back time, she would go back to when she was fifteen. Young Erin shouldn't have ever gotten herself mixed up with the wrong crowd. She should've known better. If she hadn't, she wouldn't have made stupid decisions, wouldn't have gone to juvie, wouldn't have gotten addicted to drugs, she wouldn't be leading this life.

She might have finished high school and have gone to college. She might have already graduated.

She might have had a successful career. She might have become a strong and independent woman, not weak and naive one who could bare keep ends meet.

She wished she had a different life.

But Noah wouldn't have ever come into this world the way he did. She could never wish not having him. He means the world to her. Life before Noah was unbearable. Looking back, she had no clue how she had survived.

He saved her, she was heading to nowhere, she had no ambitions, she had nobody, but now she had him to love and care. She loves him with everything in her, it's indescribable. Even if he's making her mad with his neediness.

Though he saved her from herself, now, at the same time, he was driving her back to her old way.

Erin stepped out of the shower after only being in their for five minutes. She has one rule and that was to not spend more than five minutes in the shower. She's practically throwing money down the drain already, she didn't need any more money to go to waste.

Wrapping a towel around her thin frame, she shivered back to her bedroom and quickly hurried to the end of the bedroom to her dresser and pull out a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt. Since central heating wasn't working anymore and since she couldn't afford to have it fixed just yet as she's tight on cash, like always, she'd have to suffer through the cold by putting on extra layers.

"Good thing your not here baby." she chattered through the cold as she walked back to the living room. As he's with Annie most nights, enjoying and sleeping soundly in the warmth of her apartment, she felt a pang of jealousy erupted in the pit of her belly.

Maybe that's why he's always crying. Maybe he doesn't like her. Maybe he like Annie better.

Tears trickled down her face at the realisation. Having put two and two together, she finally got the answer. Her own infant doesn't even like her. That was why he's always crying whenever she's around.

Walking to the fridge, she grabbed the vodka bottle she had just bought and sank down onto the couch. She so desperately needed to take this pain of reality away, she needed to feel nothing, numb. Allowing the burning liquid to wash down her throat, burning her fiercely as she shut her eyes tightly to stop any more tears from flowing.

If only her father hadn't die. If only she didn't have a screw up as a mother. Who knows how her life might have turned out?

She pulled the blanket from the side of the couch and snuggled into the soft material. Grabbing the remote, she switched on the television, flipping through channels after channels until she ended up on a re-run of a show that had vampires, werewolves, and some pretty boy named Damon.

Tiredness hit her hard and she slowly closed her eyes. She probably shouldn't be sleeping since she needed to pick Noah up in a couple of hours.

_She wished she didn't have this life._

But she did. If she had learned anything over the past few years, it was that life is what you make of it.

* * *

_9:27am_

Jay rested his head into his palms as he sighed deeply. Here he was. Again. Just another day at the office. Another day at the precinct in District 21.

Barely two hours had passed and he was already downing his fourth cup of coffee. He knows drinking as much coffee as he does was not doing any good to his body but it was the one thing that allowed him to get through the day, especially when there's a whole load of cases and paperwork to complete.

What he needed was to hibernate for the winter just like a bear. His brain was aching, his eyes were tired, his whole body was hurting. He just needed to sleep, forever preferably, since he have not had a good night's sleep in weeks.

It had been an incredibly strenuous week for the Unit. They had taken down, very possibly, their biggest drug bust to date. They had seized about five hundred million dollars in _cocaina_ from the Colombian Cartel. Other than that accomplishment, they had about ten open murder cases on their hands that came from all neighbourhoods in the city. From the North to the South. From Edison Park to Hegewisch. The sad part; they all didn't have any sort of connection. Which meant that they had to hunt down for ten, or more, murderers and bring justice for the victims and their. Not to mention, those were just their cases that needed to be solved for now.

He can't help but wonder how homicide does it. They must have gotten a dozen plus murder cases a day.

Jay gazed out the window, and saw what he sees everyday. A white blanket that covered his city, Chicago. Today's temperature was twelve degrees but it felt like six degrees.

Well beyond freezing.

He can't live without his heater. Unashamed to admit that central heating was his best friend. He doesn't know how he would ever survive without it.

From where he was staring off, he can clearly see a homeless man pushing his trolley filled with cardboard and amongst other things. Now, he feels like an asshole. While he complained about possibly dying without his best friend, the heater, others do not have access to such luxury.

For twenty eight years, minus the tours in Kandahar, he have called this city, the Windy City - home. He loves Chicago with all his heart and is a proud Chicagoan but she's just too damn dangerous.

Deemed as one of the most dangerous city in the country, he can attest to that, with crimes escalating daily, he felt as though all their efforts, as officers of the law, in keeping the city safe were never enough. Crimes were on the raise and he knows they will never stop. It doesn't matter whether one's at the safest neighbourhood, crimes will continue to happen.

That's a fact.

He can't help but think about her. A stranger he absolutely knows nothing about her. Just that her smile made him feel something so different inside. The smile that bloomed those deep dimples of hers. She was just a stranger whom he had bumped into.

She was unknown.

But he was certain she was somewhere in this 606.1 square kilometre city. It had already been a month since their strange encounter and he still had no luck in finding her or bumping into her again. Having been driving and walking down that street for the past month, one might think he have lost his mind, but he haven't. At least he thinks he haven't. He was a strong believer in fate, everything happened for a reason. But he do not know what his reason was.

What was fate's reason for making him feel concerned for a complete stranger?

But if he did find her, what would he say to her?

_'Hey, stranger! Do you believe in fate? Cuz I do. And I believe we were meant to bump into each other the other day. Why?...you ask; I have no fucking clue...'_

Yap. She definitely wouldn't be freaked out.

The bruise beneath her left eye never escaped his mind. Actually it was the only thing other than her dimples that he noticed. He has a strong uncanny feeling that he can't shake. Someone was hurting her and that was why she switched into defensive mode.

Was her boyfriend beating her?

Was she dead?

_Ohhhhhh!_

Maybe that was why he never saw her again.

Or maybe their stumble was nothing of fate, not a coincidence, and was not destiny. Maybe there were no deeper meaning into it.

He should really stop overthinking things.

Maybe that was why he's still single.

Shaking his head, he should've done something to help her, he should've done more other than let her walk away. Now she's possibly, most likely, dead. And it was all because of him. Guilt started to sink in; he's a cop. His job was to help people.

He couldn't even help her.

Maybe he should check the coroner's office.

"Sooooo, who is she?" Ruzek asked with an arched brow and cheeky grin as he threw an M&M chocolate at him, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Or he? Not judging."

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head in disgruntlement. He ran his tongue over the smooth surface of his teeth, sucking in his breath. He loves his buddy, Adam, but sometimes he could be really immature.

"Nobody." he replied.

He knew that wasn't the end. He knew they did not believe him and will continue to pester him to spill the beans.

But what's there to spill?

"Like we're supposed to believe that BS." Dawson said as Ruzek and Atwater exchanged knowing glances.

"C'mon, man, what's this chick's name?" Ruzek wheeled his chair to his desk, propping his elbows on the wooden surface, and blinked at him with puppy dog eyes that did nothing to him.

"I don't know."

He really doesn't.

* * *

_10:12am_

The construction outside was doing very little to wake her from her deep slumber. The annoying loud banging and booming and drilling down the street was screaming at her to wake up. Her screaming neighbours from right above were once again going at it. It was the only thing they've been doing ever since she moved in over a year ago.

Fighting.

The cement on her ceilings were already chipping because of their constant throwing of furnitures. It's only a matter of time before this inhabitable apartment collapsed.

She stirred slightly on her couch, all the sounds waking her. It was a sign. She's forgetting something. She's sure if it.

"Noah!"

"Shit!" she threw the quilt over her body. Jumbling off the uncomfortable sofa, her eyes were assaulted by the sun rays and brightness of her apartment as stars slowly faded away.

She coughed. Her throat had started to sore a little.

Reaching to get her phone, she whimpered at the dozens of missed calls and texts from Annie. Quickly calling her to let her know that she was now on her way.

Annie sounded furious. Of course she is. She's late for work.

She ran over to her door, wincing as the sudden movement sent blows after blows to her exhausted brain with ever step she took.

This happens whenever she drinks.

She shouldn't have drank.

Slipping into her boots, she ran to the bus stop. She needed to get the 10:20am bus.

.

Erin ran up the stairs to Annie's apartment, couldn't be bothered to wait for the elevator. After what seemed like forever to get to the fifth floor landing, she pushed into the emergency exit doors and ran through the halls, to get to apartment 508. Immediately frantically knocked on the door the moment she did.

The door burst open with an angry Annie glaring at her with her waitress uniform. Her jaws tightened and her nostrils flared. Annie wasn't one to get mad and when she does, Erin knows to just give her time and space to cool down.

"Annie, I'm so sorry." she whispered as she transferred her her sleeping baby onto her arms.

_Thank goodness he's asleep._

"I was two seconds to reporting you missing!" she whispered/shouted at her friend as she went to grab his diaper bag.

"I love you. You know that. You and Noah." she helped sling the bag onto Erin's shoulders, "But whatever extra shit you're...shoving up your nose...it's gotta stop. You have Noah to think about..." she shook her head fiercely, resting her hand on her hips, watching her broken friend plead at her.

"I'm sorry, Annie."

Scrunching her nose, "You reek." she stated before shutting the door.

* * *

_2:45am_

In a blink of an eye, morning turned to afternoon, that turned into evening and now Erin, once again, for the second time this week, found herself doing the walk of shame as she existed the lobby of a hotel.

Only two more clients to go.

The walk of shame wasn't as bad since this hotel wasn't as fancy as the others she have been to tonight. It wasn't even up to par. But she can't complain, now can she? Fancy or not, she was still getting paid and that's all she wanted.

She needed to pay her debt off to Bunny and her no-good husband as soon as possible. It was a mistake as now they had leverage over her. Knowing she shouldn't have borrowed money from the devils themselves, she was left with no other choice that day. It was that or getting sued by the hospital. She was so desperate for cash to pay her medical bills when she had Noah that she asked for her mother to help with the $22,450 bill. Long story-short, the birthing process and everything else that followed wasn't all that pleasant for both Noah and her.

Pulling her coat tighter against her chest, she shuddered as the blast of icy breeze threaten to freeze her extremities. As her chunky heels echoed down Jackson Boulevard, she pulled out a cigarette from her purse, wanting nothing more than to allow the heat from the vice warm her frail body.

She knows she shouldn't be smoking. She knows smoking kills. She knows it's a bad habit. But she just can't help it. She've tried a dozen of times to quit and when she thinks she could do it, that she's ready, she somehow ended up smoking an entire pack.

As she took a long drag, she mentally reminded herself to get to the bank to pay the bills and hire a plumber to fix the heater since the constant chillness was starting to get sickly. It's not like they hadn't been down this road before but it's no way to live either.

Maybe that was why she's feeling under the weather.

"Ahhhh!" she squealed as a rat ran past her. Out of all the animals in this world, it was rats that she can't stand. Small but held so much poison. They're dirty, filthy, cunning and almost always comes out at night.

_Wait...that sounded familiar. That sounded so much like her._

She's a dirty rat.

Stopping, she, again, reached inside her purse for her nasal relief spray that wasn't just an ordinary mentholatum spray, it was laced with cocaine. Just enough to kick start her system. Giving her the energy that she needed to perform.

She knows she should listen to Annie but she loves the person who she becomes when on the stimulant. She actually love herself.

Tonight, she didn't drop Noah off at Annie's but with Maya, a trustable neighbour who lives two floors down, instead. It doesn't take a genius to know that Annie was still very angry at her.

She sighed in disappointment. Annie was her only friend, the only person she could trust. She was like a sister to her.

She was her family. Other than Erin, she's the only family Noah has.

No wonder Noah cried all day, he missed her. Annie isn't even a mother, she doesn't even have any kids and she's a better mother than her. She was sure he wasn't allowing Maya to go to sleep right now, at this very moment. The apartment, the surroundings, the people was unfamiliar to him. He must be scared.

Once again she failed as a mother.

Maybe she should stop what she was doing and be the mother she ought to be.

_How else would the bills be paid?_

But it's not like she hit the streets everyday. Just once or twice a week. And if she's really tight on cash, a couple more. She doesn't like labels but it's safe to say that she's a part time hooker.

Part time or full time, it doesn't really matter. Does it? She was still selling her body for money.

In total, tonight, she would be earning $1,050 for seven client, but when extracting Bunny's share, and adding the tips earned by stripping, that made tonight's earnings at $1009. It wasn't all that bad since she have already got over two thousand dollars in savings, in rainy day money. Money that can't be touch unless needed.

"$1009." But that would soon change as most of today's earning will be deducted for rent that she's already two months behind, bills, debt, formulas, diapers, food, etc. Not to mention, Noah will be turning one next month. She needed to get him a present.

His first gift.

_2:51am_

Erin looked at her watch and exhaled deeply. She had less than ten minutes to get to her next client's apartment. If she walked down Jackson Boulevard, she wouldn't make it on time. That would take her twenty minutes at most. Leaving her no choice but to cut through Garfield Park.

She knows that it's probably not the brightest of ideas to be walking through Garfield Park at the dead hour. She could get herself killed. She have heard many stories of people getting attacked.

But tonight, she was fearless. It was definitely the drugs talking.

It's a death wish. But she had to get to Adams Street as soon as possible if she wants that $150.

She was known for making stupid and impulsive decisions when high. That's one of the reasons why she loves coke, it justified whatever she got herself involved to. It became reasonable in her mind.

As she scanned the area, there literally were no soul at sight. Maybe if she sprinted to the other side, nobody would even notice.

And that's what she did; she sprinted through the grass, heading diagonally for the other side of the park.

The only lights illuminating were those from the lamppost. The shadows were shining in odd places against the quiet night.

It was a second later that she heard faint sounds of two people, a female and male, bickering harshly at each in a foreign language.

Curiosity got the best of her so, she edged closer to whom she assumed were a couple.

_Russian_

She was sure they were speaking Russian.

_How she knew it was Russian?_

Bunny has a thing for foreign men.

_"Otpusti menya!"_

_"U tebya net vybora!"_

The hairs on the back of her neck stood, something told her, from their voices, that she needed run, that if she didn't she'll drag herself into a whole lot of trouble.

_"GAHHHH!"_

Her soul almost leaped out of her body as a blood curdling scream resonated in the empty, dark park.

_She's going to die tonight._

He thrusted the knife out of her stomach, shoving her to the ground before plunging it back into her chest again and again and again.

_Was what she was witnessing real?_

Blinking her eyes just as many, she must be having a bad trip. She can't be witnessing a murder.

_Does she really have to bring trouble upon herself?_

She just couldn't stay out of trouble. All her life, her stupid decisions have done nothing but manage to get her into sticky situations.

_2:55am_

Standing out in the open, she cursed at her choice of footwear. She had to get out of here but there's virtually no way out without him hearing her chunky heels as they cluck ferociously for their, her, life. Out of all the days she could be witnessing a murder, one when she's preferably wearing sneakers, tonight just had to be the day.

Just as she took a step to make a run for it, he looked up from the body he had just put wholes in. Their eyes locked for a millisecond before she started running for her life.

This wasn't a bad trip. This was real. He, she and what she saw was very much real.

Her chest tighten as adrenaline coursed through her veins, she sprinted as fast as she could across the grass with her four inch heels, grabbing her phone from her purse to dial those three numbers. She can't die tonight. She can't leave Noah motherless.

"911, what's yours emergency?"

"She's dead!" she shouted breathlessly into her phone, "He stabbed her! She's dead!" her voice echoed down the deserted street. The only evident sounds were her laboured breathing, clunky heels and another pair of heavy footsteps following close behind or so she thought.

"Who's dead, ma'am? Where are you?" the operator asked.

"I don't know!" she frantically pulled at her hair, looking around the street for anything that indicated her location, "I think he's following me!"

"Can you stay on the line please? I know this is scary but can you find somewhere safe to hideout until the police arrive?"

"You're fucking kiddi-"

The line went dead the moment her phone hit the cold ground as did her frail body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> “Otpusti menya!” = “Let me go!”  
> “ U tebya net vybora!” = “You have no choice!”


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Voight hadn't had rescued Erin from the streets, her life wouldn't have gotten any better. He wouldn't have helped her become the strong and independent woman she was meant to be. She wouldn't have met Detective Jay Halstead and fall in love with him the way she was meant to. She would've been broken and lost
> 
> A Chicago P.D. Inspired FanFiction.
> 
> Lindsay/Halstead  
> #Linstead

**Chapter III**

_4:04am_

He gripped his hands tighter on the steering wheel as he drove west down the icy road on Interstate 290, getting as much caffeine as possible into his system and as quickly as he can.

The harsh winter heightened further throughout the night as indicated by the blanket of snow outside that only made him want to crawl back into bed and pretend that he hadn't seen Dawson's dozen of missed calls.

_Does all murders have to happen this early in the morning?_

No one in their right mind should even be awake at such hour before dawn.

They should be at home, sleeping.

He should be at home, sleeping.

They should be with their family.

He doesn't have a family but he still should be at home, sleeping. He shouldn't be here, out in the fucking cold.

As shallow as it may sound, he doesn't really care much for this new murdered victim. He/she should've known better than to mingle in Garfield Park at dusk. Nothing good ever happens at that park after midnight. Other than drug deals gone wrong, junkies overdosing, Garfield Park is nothing more than a halfway house.

_4:21am_

Jay yawned, pinching the bridge of his nose, shaking the headache that was growing at the back of his head as he walked up the path to the cordoned section of the 184 acres park. CSU and states' medical examiner were running around the vicinity, snapping pictures and looking for possible evidence.

He was greeted by equally exhausted patrolmen as they lifted the yellow crime scene tape in order for him to pass through. He was surprised to see Adam already standing there with the rest of the team.

"Hey." he breathed. Shoving his hands in his coat pockets as he approached Chicago's newest victim.

"You're late." Adam chuckled and he sneered at his colleague. He still can't get over the fact that Adam's here before him. Usually he's the early bird.

"Where's Voight?"

"He's somewhere..." Atwater turned around, scanning the scene for their boss. "Over there. He's with the responding officers."

"So..."

Looking at the icy white corpse, the cause of death, at least, wasn't a mystery - stabbing. One of the most enthusiastic stabbing he has ever seen to be exact.

The woman's black jacket had more holes in it and in her than Swiss cheese.

The killer was definitely male to be able to exhibit that much force and was ruthlessly and merciless with his killing.

_16_

Jay had casually counted, on the spot, the amount of holes on her body while the M.E. explained how this wasn't a drug deal gone wrong as Adam had suggested.

First, method of killing was not consistent with a drug deal gone wrong. Dealers almost always carry a gun.

Second, shooting the victim would've been much easier in terms of strength, time and it would've made less of a mess.

Third, most stabbings are most likely a crime of passion, where the killer commits the act against someone because of sudden strong impulse such as sudden rage rather than as a premeditated crime.

_But who brings a knife around with them?_

_What was she doing at Garfield Park in the middle of the night?_

"Drivers' license ID'd our victim as Emily Kmetko, 28 of DuPage." Atwater informed him, scrawling down the notes he had jotted down in his notepad. "COD, pretty obvious."

Jay nodded and looking down at the victim one more time. The mass of brown hair, green eyes that were widen open and bulging from their sockets along with her lips that were ghastly parted in death.

Realising then that there wasn't an ounce of fearfulness in him anymore as he stared at the white corpse.

_He's dead inside._

He can't even remember since when he had started to feel this way, to feel nothing.

"Shouldn't this be homicide?"

"Good question, Halstead."

Jay jumped at the sudden crackle of his boss's voice as he sneaked up on the team.

"That is until our caller said the killer might be following her. We don't yet, the line went dead, she might have just ran off. But we can't take any chances."

Jay hoped it was the latter.

* * *

_3:01am_

The loud thud, that was her body, hadn't actually resonated with her the second her frail self hit the cold cement.

She groaned as she tried to haul herself off the ground, wobbling on her four inch heels before fully regaining her bearings. Coughing, she tried hacking for the air her lungs craved.

"Shit!" she exclaimed, grabbing her phone that had slid a few feet away from her. The once clear black screen was now covered in cracks.

That phone had caused her two hundred dollars.

_200_

Falling flat on her face, she lay there for a good five seconds, so sure that the bad man had caught up to her, so sure that today was be her last day, so sure that he was going to murder her, so sure that she would never see Noah again, before actually brushing herself off.

But that wasn't the case.

As she turned back around to see that there was no one in sight, nobody, no footsteps, no shadows, no soul. The vicinity was in pin drop silence, other than the crickets echoing in the distance.

_Was she hallucinating again?_

She must've snorted some very bad coke.

Annie was right; she should stop shoving whatever up her nose.

Her lungs burned as she continued to struggle in catching her breath. The sheer black stockings she wore were torn and ripped. Two large scrapes of skin on both her knees were oozing blood, causing blood to trickle down her bony shin. The corset that she was wearing wasn't the brightest of ideas since it was practically eating at her flesh. But then again, how would she have known she was going to run a marathon?

Her clients had requested her to wear a corset, so she wore a one. She can't afford to disappoint them.

She nearly stumbled onto the road as she suddenly felt so dizzy, her surroundings were literally spinning. She leaned against the stoplight for support just as what she had for her last meal, which was probably lunch, came back up.

She knew it was real, that what she had witnessed, wasn't a hallucination. She saw a man kill a woman. He stabbed her over and over agin. She can still her hear pleas and cries as she begged him to stop.

_Why? Why does bad things always happens to her?_

_Why was she destined to always get into a messy situation?_

_How is it that she manages to get herself involved in something she has no business in?_

_Did he see her?_

She don't think so.

_Did she see him?_

She couldn't really see him since it was dark. But she heard his voice.

She cursed at her conscience. She never should've called the cops even if it was the moral and ethical thing to do. She should've thought about the repercussions of her actions but she didn't. And now, she's definitely involved with the cops.

She hates cops.

They're never to be trusted. They promise you one thing and do the other. She've had that happen to her one too many times.

_3:13am_

So here she was, at the back of a taxi, still trying to breathe, still shaking like a leaf.

Slumping further down on the back seat as she watched police cars whisk by, she hissed at the pain on her scraped hands. The thin skin on her palms were grazed and covered with tiny rocks. She wiped them on her leather skin, biting her lip as she does.

_18!_

Gawking as the metre increased by every mile, she exploded internally ever time the number increased.

But it's ok. Today was an exception.

Though it would cost her twenty four dollars to get to Fuller Park, triple the cost of taking a bus, it's twenty four dollars she needs to get to safety, out of East Garfield Park, and to Noah. It's worth every penny since she wants nothing more than to hold her sweet boy.

_3:21am_

"1335 South Princeton Avenue." the cab driver said, peering around with a low chuckle. He watched as Erin try to uncross her legs with dignity.

It was obvious who she really is.

_A slut._

"C'mon suck me, baby! I'm already hard for you!" he grunted.

She narrowed her eyes in disgust, it was clear that he was hard. This night couldn't get any worse.

_Why is it that she always seemed to attract the crazies?_

Rummaging through her pursue, she hang one leg out the door of the yellow vehicle, keeping it open. She've seen how this will play out in movies. It never ends well for the passenger.

Her heart started pounding even faster against her chest as whatever she saw in the movies played in her head.

_He's going to rape her._

"Here." she said, avoiding his gaze. She reached her hand out to hand the driver the money.

"I don't need your dirty money whore!" he spat, grabbing her fragile wrist and pulled her closer to him. His round and damp face was only an inch or two away from her.

She tried to pull her wrist away but his grip on her slight was too strong, already leaving a deep red mark on her lithe skin.

She can't fight him. He has a hundred plus pounds over her. He could snap her in half with ease.

"Look", she said sternly though, inside, she was terrified. But she was not about to let him know that.

She's tired of people controlling her. It's time she regain control of her own life and body.

_Yes, she's a prostitute but that doesn't mean she could be told what to do as they please, nor should she be treated less because of her profession._

She was already having the worst day. Bad things piling on top of the other. First, she's sick. Then, what she saw. And now, this.

_What wrong with her life?_

"I am not going to blow you and you sure as hell aren't going to rape, mister. Now if you don't let go of me." she reached into her purse, "I will shoot you."

The driver just stared at her for a while before letting go of her wrist. Exposing the deep red mark that spanned the width of her entire wrist.

_He had called her bluff._

"Thanks." she said as she stepped out of the vehicle. She lowered her skirt with one hand and held tightly to her pursue with the other.

She don't even know why she said that.

_Why was she thanking him?_

Walking to her apartment complex, she sighed, the adrenaline rush was wearing off and suddenly, she was hit with a tonne of emotions.

_Fear_

A response resulting to a specific stimulus that either is the occurrence of something in the present or in anticipation or expectation of a future threat, one that is perceived as a risk to body or life.

_Fight-or-flight_

A response that arises from the perception of danger leading to confrontation with or avoiding the threat.

In her case, both.

She chose to run away from what she had witnessed.

She chose to fight the perverted taxi driver.

She thinks she may have just made two right choices.

She must be the luckiest prostitute in Chicago to be walking away unhurt and untouched, _well not exactly_ , from almost becoming a victim of both murder and rape.

.

Running up to the second floor of her apartment complex, she knocked on her neighbours' door lightly, not wanting to be too loud that it would scare Katie, Maya's daughter, and Noah.

_But how on Earth are they going to hear her?_

She couldn't call. Her phone's literally broken. Leaving her no choice but to knock in frustration.

After knocking three more times, the crack from underneath the door brighten, turning pale yellow.

The silent shuffling of two pairs of feet and whispering on the other side came to a halt a few second later.

She knows they're checking the peephole.

_Who wouldn't?_

In this neighbourhood, one should always expect the unexpected.

The day she moved into this stingy apartment, it was the day SWAT decided to pay her next door neighbour a visit. Luckily, she hadn't had Noah yet so it wasn't much of a hassle. Especially when they had to evacuate the entire floor.

Apparently her, would have been, neighbour was harbouring a fugitive, a man wanted for some sort of terror attack on some government organisation.

A few seconds of gunfire later, life didn't end well for the fugitive nor her neighbour as she watched, along with the rest of the residents, as the police wheel two body bags out of the building.

That led her to wonder; how much does one really know their neighbours?

For all she knows, if SWAT hadn't had raided that apartment, she might've been great friends with that harbouring-a-fugitive-next-door-neighbour.

At hearing the locks slide and twist open, she came face to face with Maya's husband.

"Erin?" he yawned, rubbing his eyes, "Is everything ok? It's like three in the morning." he moved aside, letting her into the warmth.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you guys. Everything's fine. I just really need to get Noah."

Walking in, she can feel his eyes on her, staring at her body and outfit.

No one in the building actuallly knows what she really does for a living. Maybe they suspect. Perhaps. Perhaps not. She’s rooting for the latter. When asked, she always gave the same blunt answer; that she works for a cleaning company. It was a convenient answer since no one has ever asked any follow up questions. They either feel sorry for her or couldn't care less about her boring job.

Awkward silence filled the air as Robert offered her to have a seat, to which she declined.

He couldn't even look at her.

"Maya's getting Noah."

She nodded.

Pulling her jacket tighter around her torso, she zipped up the zipper, hiding the corset beneath. But her super short leather skirt was doing nothing to mask her trampy varnish.

"So, you went to a party or something?"

At that moment, Maya slid back into the living room with Noah in her arms. His diaper bag and bag of toys on either shoulders.

Silently thanking Maya for her great timing, she swore she heard Robert thanking Jesus as well.

Erin gleamed and felt a sense of relief wash over her the moment she had her son in her arms. It was like she was at that maternity ward all over again.

The most memorable day of her life was when the nurse laid him in her arms for the first time, two days after giving birth. She wasn't allowed to see or even touch him after the c-section, even after she used whatever energy she had left to beg them to let her hold him. Even if it was just for a millisecond.

"Are you ok, Erin?"

Maya put a hand on her shoulders, snapping her back to reality. It was then that she realised the tears.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just-" she sniffed and wiped the tears with the back of her hands. Not failing to notice their reaction as they stared at her scraped hand.

She can see their hesitation in questioning her disheveled demeanour.

_What happened?_

_What are you doing here this early in the morning?_

_Shouldn't you be at work?_

_Why are you dressed like that?_

_Why's your face caked with make up?_

_Why are you bleeding?_

They wanted to know why but didn't know if they even had any place in questioning the young brunette.

They were merely friend, just neighbours who trusted one an other with their children.

She absentmindedly twirling the gold paper crown on Noah's head. "Thank you guys so much for watching Noah." she nodded at both Maya and her husband, who have now stood beside his wife.

"We were playing castle." Maya said out of the blue. She must have seen Erin eyeing the gold paper crown on his head. "Noah's the prince, of course."

Erin smiled. Noah must have had so much fun, so much fun away from her. He always does. Everyone would always tell her how much of a good boy he was; no cry, no fussing, no tantrums. He was an angel, they would say. She wished she could witness that side of him since he's almost never like that with her. He's the exact polar opposite. And now, she's going to kill all his joy by bring him back to their cold apartment.

Maya took a step forward and looked into the younger woman's dark eyes, squeezing her arm, "Are you sure you're alright, sweetie? Did someone hurt you?"

Erin glanced at Maya with a thin smile, squeezing her hand that was on her arm, "I'm fine. Thank you."

_3:38am_

When she finally got back to her floor and carried Noah into their apartment, his crown pressing into her chin.

She breathed in the familiar smell of musk and emptiness. For a year and a half that she've been living in this rotting apartment, she've never been so happy.

Not wasting any time in kicking off the painfully uncomfortable heels, she groaned the second they were off.

With the pad of her thumb, she caressed his chubby cheeks.

_He's safe._

Though his life was never in any danger, she just needed a confirmation; to feel, to smell, to hold him in her arms.

_She's safe._

She'll just have to forget tonight even happened.

_What happened tonight?_

_See! She has already forgotten._

"Let's take this off." she whispered to her baby, taking off the paper crown and placing it on the table before heading to their bedroom.

Placing a kiss on his soft brown locks, Noah was the best thing to ever happen to her. Her life would have gone down a different path.

She's incomplete without him.

With a shaky hand, she tried to brush his soft hair, only realising then that her shakiness was a sign of her crashing.

She knows she should stop with the cocaine. But she needed it. It was her one form of escape. Cocaine was her vice but with whatever she had to go through on a daily basis, some sort of escapism was required.

"I promise you, Noah."

But it was all false promises.

"You're my world."

They may not be living in a fancy kingdom, nor was she an elegant queen. Their apartment may not be a magnificent castle but she sure does love her little prince.

* * *

_10:09am_

The smell of brewing coffee from the break room filled the entire bullpen, the aroma hitting their noses the second they walked up the stairs.

Five cups of espressos later, Jay still wasn't fully awake.

It has already been over six hours since they were at the crime scene and they still hadn't gotten much intel on Jane Doe, their anonymous caller, since they did not have much insight to start with in the first place, other than the 911 call.

"What a morning! I'm so ready to it a day." Adam implored, plopping onto his chair. "What do you think, huh, Kev?"

"Tell me about it."

Jay and Adam had just gotten back from the coroners' office and have been waiting for five hours for her to finish the autopsy. It wasn't all bad since they mostly sat and slept on uncomfortable chairs.

Other than the obvious and what they already knew, the only new piece of evidence was that of a paper containing numbers that was found in the victim's jeans pocket to which Jay had already texted Antonio hours ago.

Emily Kmetko died as a result of a fatal stab that punctured her stomach to which the M.E. confirmed she did die a painful death. A death that resulted as soon as dispatch arrived. A death that Jane Doe couldn't have done anything more than she already have.

Her death was bound to happen.

Jay brought his mug to his lips just as he stepped out of the break room, scanning the office for Voight and Olinsky whom were nowhere to be found, and took a huge gulp.

That was the worst thing he could've done.

"Hot. Hot. Hot." he cried, spitting the liquid back into the mug.

"Careful, man."

At least now, he's wide awake.

_10:49am_

The second they heard the distinctive buzzing and footsteps echoing into the bullpen, they quickly straightened up themselves and kept their eyes locked in their computer screens.

"What you got on that number Jay texted you, Dawson?" Voight called out the second he walked into the pen.

"The number we got is a bank account from Chase, was opened a week ago in our victims name with a 100,000 anonymous transfer."

Jay wished someone could just nonchalantly transfer him that amount of money.

_Who and why would the victim receive an anonymous donation?_

Maybe that was what had gotten her killed.

"Ok, Dawson. See if you can trace that transfer. Bout you two?" Voight nudged at both Adam and Jay.

Adam looked to Jay, silently telling him to answer. "Ahh, other than what we already know, the M.E. found no evidence of foul play, no prints, no ligatures, no fluids. The murder weapon was a fighting knife with a fixed-blade, not serrated and approximately eight inches long. And it may or may not be military grade."

Voight nodded.

"Atwater, what about our killer? Anything on the security footage?"

A few clicks on the keyboard later, the security footage that Atwater had gotten from the park and traffic cameras around the street displayed on the large screen. "Here's the footage of our killer entering the park with our victim...can't really see his face...seven minutes later, here's he running off...still can't see his face though. On the bright side, he's alone which means that not have our Jane Doe. She must have run off."

Voight nodded.

"Any luck on tracing the call?"

"Nope. She used a burner phone. Seems disconnected now."

"Could you play the recording again? Maybe we missed something."

Seconds later, the speakers crackled alive.

_"911, what's your emergency?"_

Heavy breathing echoed into the speaker.

_"She's dead!"_

Jay froze.

That can't be.

_"He stabbed her! She's dead!"_

The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He can't ever forget that raspy voice.

_"Who's dead, ma'am? Where are you?"_

_"I don't know!"_

The sound of her heels stomping was now evident in the quiet bullpen.

It's her. The stranger he've been looking for. The stranger who he've about to give up in looking for. After visiting the morgue almost every day, he had finally realised that what he was doing was borderline insane.

_"I think he's following me!"_

It's definitely her. The colour on his face drained and he can now feel his heart pumping in his throat.

Why was she having this affect in him?

He doesn't even know her.

_"Can you stay on the line please? I know this is scary but can you find somewhere safe to hideout until the police arrive?"_

_"You're fucking kiddi-"_

She yelped and the line went dead.

He can't help the gasp that escaped his lips.

"I know her." he said as he got up from his chair.

Every head turned in the bullpen were now facing him, their eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"No, I mean I don't know her name or anything really. I know that voice..."


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Voight hadn't had rescued Erin from the streets, her life wouldn't have gotten any better. He wouldn't have helped her become the strong and independent woman she was meant to be. She wouldn't have met Detective Jay Halstead and fall in love with him the way she was meant to. She would've been broken and lost
> 
> A Chicago P.D. Inspired FanFiction.
> 
> Lindsay/Halstead  
> #Linstead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might contain sensitive topics, so read with caution.

**Chapter IV**

_4:16pm_

After spending the entire morning napping with her son and almost all afternoon cleaning and tidying up the apartment while Noah played with his toys and watched his favourite cartoon - _Curious George_ \- to which she shamelessly enjoyed, she finally had a chance to sit.

Motherhood is hard as hell. Being a single mom is even more difficult. At least to Erin it is. She didn't expect it to this difficult.

She knows there are plenty of single moms who manage to do it all by themselves and do it perfectly but for Erin, she's treading on thin ice.

She's doing it alone for what was designed to be a two-person job. Working two jobs, cooking their meals - mostly Noah's - since she hardly ever eats and when she does, it's always just toast _(because she’s - she doesn’t want to say ... lazy, but that’s an accurate depiction)_ , cleaning, looking after Noah - performing her duties and responsibilities as a mother in the best way she knows - and the cycle repeats itself.

At times, she feels as though she's trapped underneath a mountain of responsibilities that wouldn't allow her to invest in anything else but being a mother.

She needs to feel loved again, she craved to be loved. She wants to find her great love, her companion for life but she can't; she's afraid of bringing strangers into Noah's life, afraid of people rejecting her because she has a child, afraid of giving Noah false hope of a father, she's afraid of sharing him with anyone else. She wants her son all to herself.

She feels guilty that she has to bring Noah up this way, as a single parent. Every child deserves to have two parents.

_Look what Bunny's single parenting had done to her!_

She has tried, god knows how hard she've tried to give him everything he needs but sometimes, that's just not enough.

She often finds herself feeling physically, emotionally and spiritually worn out. And she's certain Noah noticed it too. No wonder he hates being with her.

_She would hate being with a Debbie Downer too._

All she has to do right now was to clean up the mess he've made. If clanging and throwing toys across the apartment and biting every toy he could get his hands on was called playing, he, sure as hell, had done a superb job.

But it's ok. She've learned to take a breather.

He's just overly excited, which was good since he's hardly happy at home.

He's also learning new things every single day, processing fascinating stories and information, it excites her to watch him figure out the world.

_He's a genius._

She's certain he's the smartest baby on the planet. She've never seen a baby who spends most of their time with a book, flipping through pages with their chunky little fingers as Noah does. He loves to read. In other words, he loves to force her to read to him.

"Mama. Mama." he would hold his favourite book in his tiny hands, either crawling or stumbling on his chubby legs before handing her the book, signalling her that it's storytime.

He would gurgle and coo for her to read for him. And, sometimes, scream and squeal when she wouldn't listen. Leaving her no choice but to.

But when she's extremely tired, she would completely ignore his pleas. She knows she shouldn't but after a long night at work, sometimes all she wants was to sleep forever. It's as simple as that.

One day, she'll regret it. Sooner or later, he'll learn to read by himself. It's then that she'll want to read to him. She'll miss these moments.

So here she is, having just realised her baby had fallen asleep on her lap with his thumb in his mouth. She had been so immersed in the witty story that she had completely blocked out her surroundings.

Holding him close to her chest, his head falling onto her shoulder, she slowly got up from the couch before gliding down the hall to their room. She walked quietly, not wanting to startle him since he had just fallen asleep and not to mention, he've been on his best behaviour today. He hasn't even cried yet, which was odd as ever since he was born, he has done nothing but cry.

Erin laid down on her bed and placed Noah next to her, wrapping him up in a warm blanket. Since the heater still wasn't functioning, they both had no choice but to sacrifice another day.

With what had happened this morning, she was too scared to leave the house today. Hence, she hadn't left the house to pay any bills as she had planned to.

She's two months behind on rent, she still hadn't paid this month's water and electricity bills nor did she pay for a plumber to fix the heater. And now, she had to buy herself a new cellphone. Another added cost to her bills.

_Great!_

Sighing, scared or not, she has to hit the streets again tonight. She doesn't really have a choice.

_How else was she going to earn money?_

She propped herself on her side looking at the perfect baby boy next to her.

_What if she had gotten hurt?_

_What if he had murdered her? Or raped her? Or both?_

She would be gone forever.

_What would have happened to Noah then?_

There's no way in hell she'll ever entrust Bunny in taking care of her son, even if she's family.

_No way. Over her dead body._

Bunny could hardly even take care of her own kids.

Brushing the few strands of caramel hair that had fallen onto his forehead, this isn't the kind of things she would want to think about. She would like to think about vacation, taking Noah to Disneyland or somewhere hot and sunny. But in her line of work, it's only fair that she thinks of the _'what if'_ since any day she could be walking right into a trap.

Just glancing at his face calmed her.

Whenever her baby's relaxed, she's relaxed too. He looks so peaceful, his face void of stress.

She knows every mother says this about their baby but he truly is one handsome boy. Everyone says so too.

Her heart seized as she stared at her creation. His deep dimples, his long dark lashes, his chubby cheeks, his _light blue eyes_ that were now hidden by his closed lids, she can't help but think that he doesn't look much like her, though everyone insisted that he does.

His features were different, only the hair colour and those deep dimples resembled her. Her eyes were green, almost hazel whereas his were a shade of light hollow blue.

Erin brushed through his strands, wiping away a fat tear that threatened to fall on his face. Erin laid back down, pulling Noah even closer to her and inhaled his comforting smell of baby shampoo.

It's just them against the world.

She doesn't want him to ever grow up. She wants him to stay young and innocent forever. That was one of her greatest fears in life. She feared the kind of man he'll turn out to be.

She doesn't want him to be a criminal or a wife beater.

She wants him to be a feminist, to know what's right from wrong, to respect one and other, to treat people how he would like to be treated.

But that has to start with her.

She can't be a hypocrite.

She has to first learn to respect herself, to love herself enough to know that the lifestyle she's living at the moment isn't going to be a good influence on Noah's future.

_How is she going to preach about respect and dignity when she's allowing men to toss her around like a joint?_

* * *

_4:46pm_

After spending the entire rest of the morning with the District's sketch artist, describing every inch of her face to the artist as best as he could remember, they had an exact match from the database and had finally gotten a name. She's no longer _Jane_ _Doe_.

He remembered her like it was yesterday since, in some ways, it was yesterday that he saw her; in his head. She has never left his mind. She has been there, at the back of his mind, for the past month or so.

As creepy as it may sound, he remembered everything about her face, from every line that made up her beauty to the bruise under her left eye. Her dimples as she smiled, every crinkle on her face and even the beauty mark that rested below her right eye on her cheekbone had been etched into his brain.

_But why?_

_Why does he feel like he the urge to protect her?_

She's merely a stranger whom he had a conversation with that lasted less than a minute.

Just thinking of that bruise made his blood boil, someone was hurting her.

He has been feeling as though the walls were closing in ever since he had finally put a name to that stranger.

He's panicking inside. He wants to help her but he doesn't know how or where she is.

As he studied her file, reading through every arrest report and statements back to back, he had practically memorised it. He now felt like he knew her. He felt as if he'd known her for years already.

She had been reduced to a typical troubled teen.

_Erin Lindsay_

_8th July, 19xx_

_24_

_A serial juvenile offender, typical teenage offences._

_Possession of a Controlled Substance_

_Possession of Alcohol Under the Legal Age_

_Possession of Marijuana_

_Simple Battery_

_Shoplifting_

Her last offence was seven years ago of another battery charge which, to him, indicated that she had gone down the right path in life, stayed out of trouble and had gotten help for her anger issues. He was happy that she found a silver lining. She looked to be a somewhat friendly woman when he had bumped into her.

She's alive, that's all that really mattered at this point.

_5:51pm_

Having spent the last two hours driving through streets after streets at the neighbourhood where he had bumped into her, every store, bar and restaurant near and around Morgan Street said that they did not recognise her.

As instructed by Voight, Jay and Adam were now canvassing the area Jay had last seen Erin Lindsay. It was a long shot of finding her this way, a possibility of one in a million.

Intelligence had to find her since she probably saw the killer's face, she had witnessed Emily Kmetko's murder and they needed her for her statement, possibly ID the killer so they could get on with their lives.

Everyone at the Unit had thought he was crazy for worrying too much about a girl he barely knew or saw. He's driving himself crazy by every waking hour. But he has to find her, even if it will take him days, he won't rest until he does.

He doesn't know if she felt it too but he felt a connection that day. He felt a spark ignited the second he laid eyes on her. Maybe this was his fate, to help her stop whoever was hurting her.

Since no one has ever seen her at Morgan Street, they might as well head to another street.

_5:56pm_

"Hey. Think we should check out that bar?" Adam suggested, pointing at the dimly lighted pub across the street.

_PODMoskovye_

The second they walked into the almost empty bar, every single men and women in skintight dresses that were sitting by a tattered black wooden table, sticky with multiple layers of stale alcohol, stared at them. Dozens of piercing pairs of eyes were on the duo.

The bittersweet smell of hard liquor travelled straight up their nostrils and into their brain, so certain that even the slightest whiff could make them drunk.

By the manner in how they were staring at them, they were sure that they've already been made - they knew that they were the police.

It was like a bikers' pub, the only difference was that these fellas were Russians. A dead giveaway was the huge white, blue and red three-striped flag that was on display behind the bar and the now silent chatter of the Eastern European language.

Jay walked in cautiously and slowly, wary about his surroundings, watching as a man sneak out to the back.

She doesn't seem to be the type of girl who hangs with these big men.

_But then again, what does he know?_

Something about everything in this bar did not sit right with Jay.

"Not open." the bartender said sternly, wiping a glass with a washcloth.

The detectives flashed their alloyed badges, "We're looking for some information." Jay said.

"Don't know information," he said, his tongue curling in a thick Russian accent.

As he barely even glanced at the detectives, he continued on cleaning the tumblers and glasses that were sprawled out on the counter.

Jay huffed, it was clear to him that he did not want to help or get involved in any way. He understands; no one wants to get involved with cops. But not all cops were dirty, not all of them use underhand methods. He's a good cop. He likes to think he is.

He ran his hand down his face; it could be the frustration of the fact he still hasn't found her or the fatigue plagued by lack of sleep, he was so ready to draw out his gun and pull the trigger.

Adam stepped in, taking lead to keep Jay from lashing out in a bar filled with men twice their size. He was really taking this case personally.

"We're looking for a female, brown hair, green eyes, about 5'4''," he said, pulling out his phone before showing the bartender a picture. "Have you seen this woman?"

"No."

He had barely lifted his head.

Jay rolled his eyes and snickered. He's definitely testing his patience, "It's easier if you actually looked at it."

Jay was starting to get very annoyed.

The barkeep slammed the glass that he was trying to clean spotless onto the countertop, causing a few heads to turn and tiny gasps emitting from the women, who were clearly hookers, at the establishment.

"You telling me I'm stupid! I don't look at no bitches! I serve drinks! If she come here, I don't know! I don't care! I do my job!" he shouted, leaning on the counter to get up close and personal with the equally pissed detective.

"Ok. Ok. Whoa..." Adam held his hand out, telling the other guys behind them to relax and sit back down, that they mean no harm, that they weren't here to cause any trouble. And Jay can hear one of the girls hiss at him. _Vadim_. "Just calm down, alright...We're leaving, ok. You don't know her. We get it."

Adam wasn't stupid; he knew the bartender knows more than he was admitting to.

_Why else would he have such a reaction?_

If he really doesn't know her, he wouldn't have blown up the way he just did. He could've just said no.

Unlike Jay, who was ready to throw punches, Adam knows better than to also be a hothead. He knows that both of them, alone, can't fight off a dozen of not-so-friendly giants.

"We're leaving."

Adam elbowed him but Jay continued to stare deathly the Russian.

"You might wanna have that license checked," Jay said before storming out of the bar.

* * *

_11:18pm_

"You're in my spot, _pizda_." Yasmine, one of the older girls, spat, her hands on her hips.

The tall amazonian Russian with a body to die for, glared down at Erin with her large brown eyes. Her eyes held an innocence that was almost childlike. No wonder the randy men in this club were so fond of her.

It was as if they could almost fulfil their sick fantasy.

Rolling her eyes, Erin simply went back to adding another coat of lip gloss on her red lips.

Her new tactic was to ignore. The six years she've been in this industry, up until she had Noah, were filled with drama, sabotage and meaningless fights. Half of the time, she doesn't even know what the fight was about.

She's too exhausted of taking their words to heart. Their words don't mean a thing to her anymore. She's here to work and that's it. They can say whatever they want about her, they are entitled to their own opinion as much as the next person, but she's not going to grant them the satisfaction of knowing that their words hurt; that it had an effect on her.

She wasn't born yesterday, she knows what they've been saying behind her back; that she gets special treatment since Bunny, their boss, was her mother, that she gets all the good-paying clients _(although it's true, it's not nearly as great)_ , that she's a dirty hoe, that she had slept with almost every men and women in Chicago.

_You know, the normal catty, pageantry stuff._

Old Erin would've started a fight, she would've thrown the first punch, she would've beaten up anyone and everyone who talked behind her back. But as time progressed, old Erin did as well, she realised she's just too old to be petty.

And Yasmine was no different. She has and will always be jealous of Erin. A couple of years older than her, Yasmine was deemed Double Dzz's number one dancer. That is until Erin came along. Erin was bringing in big money and suddenly she became relevant and good for business. And now Yasmine's thrown to second place.

Erin can't help it, it wasn't her fault why men were always requesting for _Dandelion_.

" _Suka, blyat._ " she cursed under her breath and Erin still didn't feel the urge to punch her in the face.

She must have grown to be more mature.

Six years into this business and she still doesn't know why she hasn't quit. It's easier said than done.

_Well, this pays better than regular jobs and she has a mountain of debt that needs to be paid._

But wouldn't she want to be respected and dignified?

A job that doesn't require her to strip and twirl around a pole and sell herself for sex.

_Wouldn't she want Noah to be proud of his mother?_

She was also doing _this_ for him. She wants to be able to give him everything he needs.

At twenty-four, she feels like a senior citizen, she's too old to be doing for this. But this was all she knew and exposed to, this was all she had grown up with, this was the norm.

But maybe it was the fact that she's just tired. Tired of being tired all the time, tired of being passed around like a joint, she's tired of sex in general. She was certain if she did quit this job today and if she did find her Mr. Perfect, it wouldn't make a difference. She still won't ever have sex again. It wasn't that hated sex. It was because she was afraid of it being completely and utterly meaningless.

Somewhere deep down, she knew will never find someone who would change her for the better.

Somewhere deep down, she knew she will never be able to quit this job.

This was the only job a girl like her could have.

Her father, _rest his soul_ , wouldn't want this life for his baby girl. If he was still here, she knows she wouldn't be living this life.

Erin examined herself in the mirror, she's no longer Erin Lindsay but _Dandelion_ instead.

At least for the night and early morning.

She doesn't know whether or not she should like this persona, _Dandelion_.

Dandelion does things that Erin cannot.

Dandelion is much prettier than Erin.

Dandelion is much sexier, confident and sluttier.

Being Dandelion can, in some ways, be eye-opening. She sees things most people don't see. On the contrary to popular belief of men being a sweaty, hormonal mess when they bought her for the night, sometimes, thirty-nine percent of the time, they're just lost. They just want someone to vent to, to talk to, about their life, wife, kids, job, etc. If anything, she's just like a therapist. Only cheaper.

Sixty-one percent of the time, they just want her for the sex. And that was what Dandelion's for.

_11:53pm_

Two lap dances and four hundred one-dollar bills later, she still has the energy for a few more rounds.

She should since the night's going so well for her. A few more spins on the pole then she would be making over a thousand dollars tonight.

It's almost twelve and Dandelion's ready for her second dance. The music was pumping, the crowd were cheering and screaming; tonight was huge for Double Dzz. Other than the fact being it Sunday, a bachelor party was taking place.

After this, she's hitting the streets to compensate for the clients she bailed on this morning. This time she knows better than to go through Garfield Park.

As she stood backstage, waiting for Dandelion to be called out, she thought about calling Annie to check up on Noah. But then, she remembered that her phone was broken.

She sighed and looked over at herself one more time. There was nothing modest about Dandelion. She left nothing to the imagination.

Her heels were an inch higher, her goodies were pushed up twice as much, her shirt was almost transparent and her skirt rested just under her butt cheeks.

Rubbing her bruised wrist that the cabbie had so kindly left, it was now in a deep shade of purple and was tender to touch. There was nothing she could do to conceal it, this bruise was one that she can't hide.

"Want one?" Amy, a kind young blood, held out a shot glass containing a clear substance.

Erin willingly took it. Downing it in one go, shaking her body as she slammed it back to Amy.

She needed that.

She needed liquid courage.

_12:00am_

"Our number one Double Dzz Doll, Dandelion!"

Taking a deep breath, she took a step towards the curtain but just as she was about to strut the catwalk, Bunny grabbed her by the arm. "Erin, Misha wants to see you."

"Why? It's my turn up. Can't this wait?"

"You know Misha, he doesn't like waiting."

"Seriously, Bunny." she rolled her eyes at her boss/mother, who looked oddly unfazed by her reaction. Normally, she would scold her for her disrespect but tonight, she's too quiet.

Sighing, she walks back to the dressing room to grab a sweater, not wanting to be too exposed in front of the owner, and reluctantly walked to his office amidst the booing of the crowd.

When Misha asks to see him in his office, it can only be one of two things; it's either good or bad. It can never be somewhere in between. And it's always bad. That was why she doesn't get on his bad side, she doesn't talk to him, don't interact with him or even look at him.

Her heart pounded harshly in her chest. The last time she was in his office, it didn't end well. For her mostly.

She hates him.

He ruined their life.

.

_The nightmare happened again, only this time, she wasn't sleeping._

_She was locked in her room, curled in a corner with her arms wrapped around her knees, her cheeks against them as she tried desperately to cover her ears with her hands._

_As much as she tried to block out the horrible screams coming from downstairs, she just couldn't. It was so loud, so deathly that it sent shivers down her spine._

_She wanted to do something. She wanted to help but she was scared._

_She didn't know what to do or how she could've helped. She would've just made the situation much worse than it already is._

_"Misha, please stop!" she heard her mother beg her newly wedded husband of three months._

_After months and months of dating, her mother had said yes to his proposal._

Of course, she did.

_But then again, she too was excited for him to be her father. He was nice, caring and loving. She was happy to have someone to call dad again. After her father had died, it was just her and her mother._

_Misha would take them out for meals - breakfast, lunch and dinner - vacations and even Disneyland._

And of course, that sealed the deal for an eleven-year-old.

_He was the only boyfriend that her mother brought home that was decent, who actually cared about family, who bought her gifts._

_Or so she thought._

_Three months ago was when everything went downhill. She doesn't know what it was or what made him this way but it was like he was a whole different person._

_It didn't happen overnight, he didn't just snap and became the devil. He slowly showed his true colours with a few nasty comments here and there, a little shoving once in a while, a slap every once in a full moon. But now, this, it was too much, too much hurt for them to take._

_He, Mikhail_ ''Misha'' _Vetrov, was no longer was the nice and caring man that her mother had once married._

_He's a cold-blooded violent abuser who takes pleasure in beating his helpless wife and stepdaughter senseless. He beats as though he couldn't hear any of their imploring requests._

_It was then, with a deep shaky breath, that she got the courage to open the door to her bedroom and grab a field hockey stick that was in her room._

_Field hockey was the one sport that she loved. It was the one thing that she could immerse herself in and forget whatever horror had happened at home._

_Holding the stick tightly above her head, "If you don't stop hurting my mother...I, I will kill you..." she stuttered with zero conviction in her voice._

_He was dragging her mother across the kitchen by the hair._

_Her face twisting into a painful sob at the sight of her mother. Her heart was racing in the confines of her chest; she was frozen in terror._

What could an eleven-year-old do to fight a grown man who's thrice her size and age?

_She doesn't know who this man was anymore._

_Her mother had always had a thing for guys with accents and it was always the Europeans that caught her heart._

_This man was no different, an immigrant from Russia._

_It was horrifying for her to have to speak to him in this way because she knew he had way more strength than her. At 6'5", he weighed a little over two hundred pounds, of which were mostly muscles. He could knock her out in a blink of an eye._

_He laughed menacingly at her, "You, little girl, threatening me?"_

_He turned to face her. The irony in his voice was evident. The smell of vodka from his breath was disturbingly strong._

_She looked at her mother, lying there; on the kitchen floor, with healing bruises all over her face and fresh ones forming around her right eye, a bleeding nose and a split lip._

_This was it. He's going to kill them tonight._

_"What are you going to do, huh? Hit me with that piece of shit?" he paused, looked at Bunny and then back at her. "You know very well that what coming next will be much worse. Much much worse, Erin. So go, go ahead hit me."_

_She trembled and tears stung her eyes, only because she knew she had brought what was about to happen upon herself._

How can someone change so much?

What if he was never a nice man?

What if he was just using them?

But what for?

They didn't even have much.

_Standing idly with her shaky legs, she glanced back and forth between her mother and stepfather._

_If only her father hadn't died._

_"Erin, go to your room!" her mother shouted._

_"No. Don't, Erin."_

_He got up from where he was on the kitchen floor and she took a step back, she took another and another and another until she felt the cold wall against her back._

_She's trapped._

_She whimpered when he snatched the hockey stick from her._

_"Ungrateful_ dermo _!" he grabbed a fistful of her long caramel hair and slammed her head against the solid concrete wall._

_A stream of warm, red liquid ran down her face but she did not cry. Knowing full well that this was her fault._

_Her eyes pleaded at her mother to do something, to stop him as she had, but her mother just sat there as if she didn't care, as if she was glad that he was beating her for a change._

_That was the beginning, the catalyst of all the agonies in her life._

_Almost thirteen years ago._

.

"You wanna see me?" she stated coldly as she crossed her arms, slowly walking into his office.

Looking up at her, she can see that he was sizing her, licking his lips at the view before him. She averted her gaze to look out the window.

_Pervert_.

He's a horrible man.

"Have a seat," he said, getting up from his and walking behind her as she took a seat on one of the chairs.

She heard the click of the lock on the door echo, indicating her that she's trapped in this box.

_She's scared._

Swallowing the lump in her throat, "What am I doing here?" she asked, sounding calmer than she really felt inside.

He slowly made his way over to his desk; still, he hasn't said a word, the heels of his boots scuffing on the linoleum.

He sat on the edge of his desk crossing his arms and stared down at her for what seemed like forever. "You wanna tell me why the police are looking for you." his thick Russian accent seethed.

Looking down at her lap, fear ran up her spine, the colour from her face disappeared, making her look even paler under the paint she had on.

She parted her lips as if she was about to say something but nothing seemed to be coming out of her mouth. With his nostrils flaring and fists clenching, she knows he's beyond angry.

"I, I, don't know. I swear I don't know." she stuttered, shook her head fiercely as she looked up at him with pleading eyes.

This 'meeting' was about to go south really quickly.

Nothing good ever happens at Misha's office.

"You lying bitch!" he spat as he harshly backhanded her left cheek.

She let out a pitiful cry, the pain radiating against her skull as she landed hard on her side along with the heavy chair that had toppled over her. With a hand to her stinging cheek, she shook away the stars that threaten her to a haze.

_12:09am_

She knows not to scream as he continued with his painful kicks to her abdomen, it will only get worse. She knows not to scream because this has happened so many times before.

Anyway, with the music blaring so loud, no one could ever hear her screaming.

With every kick and every punch, she braced herself for the next. With every blood that he drew, she begged for her stepfather to stop, pleading for him to listen to her, that she had no idea why the police were looking for her.

Though she knew, she wasn't going to let him know that. She knew it was because of what she had witnessed. She had an inkling that it was because of that. But they were so quick, too quick to find her. She didn't even leave her name.

_How could they have known it was her?_

It'll only be a matter of time before they show up at her doorstep.

"Misha, please please stop!"

She lay on the ground, clutching her stomach. Aches and pains were radiating throughout her body as he continued his assault. Blood was seeping out of her mouth and nose. Her make up was smudged and smeared all over her face.

She's no longer _Dandelion_. She's back to her real self, _Erin_.

"Don't lie to me! You've been talking to the police, _blyat_!" he yelled, snatching her harshly by her hair and slamming her back against the wall over and over again. Knocking oxygen right out of her lungs with every blow.

"Why else would they come to the bar and looking for you?! Huh?! Answer me!"

She shook her head; she doesn't know.

She didn't even try to fight him, she couldn't. She didn't even look at him, she's too weak, too scared. She can't help but cry out loud instead.

"I should kill you!"

Closing her eyes, she wished he would.

She let out a whimper when she felt his thick fingers jag at her throat, choking her.

_"I should kill you!"_

That was the one thing he always says but never seems to follow through.

"You know better than to talk to cops, Erin! You threatening my business!"

His grip grew tighter around her neck. She can feel the blood trickling down her face as she gasped for air.

She knew what he was talking about; his 'business' that he conducts behind the closed doors of this strip club and the bar he owns on the west side. But if only he knew that the police couldn't care less about his 'business'.

_"Pizda!"_

He let go of her and she found herself struggling for air, slumping down to the ground as her knees gave out, curling herself into a corner. Tears fell in torrents and she buried her face in her hands as she choked on sobs.

She heard the distinctive sound, the sound she hated, the sound she heard one too many time; the sound of his zipper and belt.

She felt like she was that helpless fourteen-year-old again.

" _Lezhat na krovati_." he sneered and she did as she was told and laid on the flimsy mattress.

But he doesn’t seem to be quite satisfied with that, because he roughly turned her around, hard enough for her to make a pained gasping sound, and shoved her face down.

Before she can react, he was a weight crushing on top of her. She tried to swallow but her throat always feels tight - always feels paralysed when hands are pushing her face down.

One hand dug into her back, the other reaching between her legs and sliding into her panties. She doesn’t move; she _never moves_ as he ruts against her lower back and biting flesh that must be her shoulder, clawing at her body.

She’s hardly thinking right now.

She doesn’t do anything to resist, to cooperate. She had learned it the hard way.

She's weak as a goose. She's not as strong and confident as she makes herself out to be. She bit her lip. One might think she would've gotten used to this by now, considering her profession.

But all the same, shame crushed her lungs and she gasped for air. She couldn’t get herself to open her eyes and see that it was her stepfather; not wanting to look into his _familiar light blue irises_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> “Pizda”  
> “Suka, blyat”  
> “Dermo”  
> “Blyat” = first through fourth are unimportant curse words ;)  
> “Lezhat na krovati.” = “Lie on the bed.”


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Voight hadn't had rescued Erin from the streets, her life wouldn't have gotten any better. He wouldn't have helped her become the strong and independent woman she was meant to be. She wouldn't have met Detective Jay Halstead and fall in love with him the way she was meant to. She would've been broken and lost
> 
> A Chicago P.D. Inspired FanFiction.
> 
> Lindsay/Halstead  
> #Linstead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented. It was much appreciated and I’m glad you enjoyed.

** Chapter 5 **

_7:43am_

Tuesday rolled in like a blur. Sunday turned into Monday and that came about Tuesday. Two blizzard-like days of emptiness. They were onto nowhere at this point in the case. The killer might as well get away with murder since they definitely do not know who that man is.

Atwater and Ruzek have gone through all the security footages at the park over a dozen times, frame by frame and it's always either too grainy or dark to get a reading on the facial recognition software. With every try, CODIS has an excuse.

Antonio had gone to Chase the other day to enquire more about the anonymous account but other than what they have already known, they had nothing to lead them to a path.

Jay's simple task of finding their star witness, Erin Lindsay, was a flop. He have talked to the arresting officer of her most recent arrest which was almost eight years ago and all he could remember was that she's one angry kid. Jay found that hard to believe, he knows her. He've _seen_ her. He've _talked_ to her. She _looked_ to be a nice and calm woman.

_Why was his judgment so clouded?_

He don't understand why. He don't really know her. All he knows is what was on her file.

_Why was he taking this case too personal?_

He don't know why.

Yawning, he walked up the stairs to the lobby of the busy district and was lighten up to the hustle and bustle of 21.

Though he have already been in the Unit for over a year, Voight still somehow doesn't see him as an asset. He still thinks that the only reason he's here was because he's friends with Antonio.

Jay have been trying to prove himself to his superior, that he's valuable to the team but every time he thinks he did just that, he's back to square one. Even Ruzek and Atwater gets more respect than he does.

The first person he saw was Platt and as usual she was standing behind the desk, on the phone.

"I don't really care if you have to go to the North Side. You bring his fat ass back here." Platt yelled into the phone, causing heads to turn in the busy lobby.

Jay shared a look with Kim Burgess who was quick on her feet to turn back around from where she had came from. He chuckled before walking over to Platt, just as she was hanging up the line.

"Bringing in a crook?"

"No. Bombay Palace thinks they're gonna get away by scamming me, the desk sergeant, and not give me my chutney! How am I supposed to eat my samosas? Nah-ah! That Indian bastard can bring his ass back here and hand it to me himself!" Platt scuffed, looking at Jay.

" _Babaji_? C'mon Sarge. Give the poor man a break." Jay said, referring to the elder delivery man from the local Indian restaurant that was just a few blocks away.

"Are you tryna say something, Halstead?" she cocked her head to one side.

Maybe he should've just walked away. He should've done what Burgess had done and buzz himself up to the pen.

He shrugged, "I'm just saying there's a tonne of chutneys in the fridge upstairs." he explained.

"God knows how long they've been living there! You tryna have me killed! Who's gonna watch over the desk when I'm gone? You! Puh-lease! Just go! Go! Get your ass upstairs!" she huffed, shooing him away.

Jay's feelings were definitely bruised.

_Why does everyone thinks he's incompetent in doing his job?_

_7:51am_

"Burgess!" he heard Platt yell just as he walk up to the bullpen to see every member already there. Once again, he's last. He already knows what's coming next.

"You're late!" Voight barked as Jay took a seat at his desk, "We don't have all day to wait for your ass, Halstead!"

It's barely even eight. That's hardly being late at all. Though he wanted to defend himself, though he desperately wanted to say something, he chose otherwise since he very much know Voight wouldn't think twice about booting him off the team.

"Won't happen again, Sarge." he said, not wanting to start an argument with his superior who's in no mood to fight over petty nonsense.

They were all exhausted but none other than Jay who still couldn't get Erin Lindsay out of his mind.

_Why is that?_

* * *

_10:19am_

It's not long before Erin's fragile illusion of what her life had reduced to, shattered into a million pieces. _Yet_ _again_. Just as she thought she had finally regained the control in her life, he took it away just as quickly.

_He did it again._

Whenever he would do _that_ to her she would find an escape from reality. A coping mechanism that she had built for herself in the confines of her head as a fourteen year old. A coping mechanism that could bring her to her happy place.

She would lay unmoving and barely breathing until he finishes.

She would picture St. Barthélemy or any beautiful island with white sand and crystal blue sea to be exact since that was what she saw in pictures and on TV. She've never gone to a beach. The unknown, that was her happy place. A place of peace, calm and tranquility. A place where she knows she's safe, just her inside her head.

She would squeeze her eyes shut and clutch the sheets tighter and tighter between her fists in order to have something to hold onto as she focus on that sandy white beach.

Much like that day as she, once again, was that fourteen year old.

Laying on her rock hard couch, she was in an unforgiving pain. Pain that got worse as the days progressed. Two days have gone by and as predicted, it was the worst yet. Every inch hurt. She was sure every millimetre of every bone were bruised, if not fractured.

Her night didn't go as planned. She never went for another round on the pole and she never went to fulfil her promises to her awaiting clients.

That night, she somehow managed to get out of his office. Tears, blood, sweat, all hers, were pouring. She was in agony.

_What'd she ever done to him?_

She don't know.

All the other dancers at the dressing room stared at her. Their eyes wide with fear and pity. Even Yasmin was agape. They gawked, not saying a word with every moan that escaped her lips as she tried her best to get back into decent clothing.

_If Misha could do such a thing to his daughter, what about them?_

They know better than to get involved so they mind their own business.

A baby was screaming in a distance. She can hear it but it just seemed so lost and unreachable with all the voices and haze that she was trapped in.

_Was it Noah? Or was it her?_

She don't know.

She'll get over this. Like always.

She'll be good as new. Like always.

She'll have no choice but to pretend like nothing has ever happened. Like always.

She'll be fine.

Out of all the days that he could be clingy, out of all the three hundred and sixty five options, it just had to be when she could barely walk, talk and breath.

"Noah! Could you please stop crying!" she begged through laboured breaths.

Though she needed something much more stronger than Tylenol, she knows not to go down that road again.

She's in desperate need of a fix.

But maybe this was her chance of getting clean again.

She's at the bottom of all bottoms.

_How low can she go?_

"Why are you crying?" she slowly lifted the covers, wincing in pain as sharp edges pierced within her abdomen and she slowly dragged her feet, never lifting a muscle, to where her son was at his playpen.

If it wasn't for Annie, helping out when she can and staying with them for the time being, she wouldn't be able to function.

She needed help.

He've been keeping them up all night and that alone was tipping her off her limits.

She don't understand why he was crying so much. She've played with him, bathed him, fed him and changed him. And he still wanted her.

_Why would anyone want her?_

Every time, she put Noah down, he'd whine before starting his ear screeching cries. This morning, it had even gotten to the point where he had aggravated his asthma. Luckily, she was able to control the attack with his medication.

"Oh no!" she gasped through a choking sob as she bent down to pick him up.

He was holding his teething toy in his chubby hands, saliva drooling down the sides on his mouth and as soon as she picked him up, he began slowly calming down.

Shifting him to her uninjured side, he immediately cuddled into her and she allowed his warmth to calm her as well.

With the collar of his onesie, she dabbed off the drool from the sides of his cheeks, "I'm sorry baby." she said softly.

She really was. She didn't mean to snap at him.

Slowly bouncing and swinging him from side to side, trying to get him to sleep, she whimpered through every excruciating pain.

She's hurting.

But he doesn't seem to care at all.

She's tired.

She have never wanted to be a mother.

She was never ready.

_10:33am_

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she let out a deep and agonising cry as she pressed her lips onto Noah's head. She haven't seen this girl in years and here she was again, in front of her.

The bruises around her eye and the corner of her lips had darken into a deeper shade of purple. Her entire torso had doubled in size with purple and red splotches covering her slight. Her ulna and radius still felt like they were vibrating with his kicks when she lifted her arms to shield him from smashing her face with his boots. With the amount of injuries, it'd be a month or so before she could get back to work.

_She's ugly._

At the beginning, she had thought stripping would give her the confidence and self-esteem that she needed, and it did. For a years and years, it did. Her persona of someone sexy and desired, of something men craved, filled a void in her. The need for love and attention, something she never had, was fulfilled with every wolf whistle, hoot and dollar bill that they toss in the air.

That was then, she's disgusted in herself now.

.

_"Erin! Erin! Sweetie! Come here!”_

_Erin was swinging as high as she could on one of the many swings at the playground, getting ready to jump off. So she could show off the new trick she had learned to her friend, Peyton, when her mother beckoned for her._

_"Ugh!" she groaned before slipping out. She didn't want to lose her spot on the swings and let the other kids play but she knows better than to ignore her mother._

_This afternoon was the first time in years that her mother had taken her to the park, which was quite strange since she never willingly did that. Not after her father had died._

_Running to where she was at the bench, she noticed a rather big man next to her with a big smile plastered on his face._

_"Yea, mom." she said, catching her breath._

_She took a quick glance at the giant and instantly recognised him. He was one of the many friends her mother had over. But this man didn't seem like her mother's other friends, she've seen him almost every night at their apartment for past few months._

_This was odd because her mother used to have many men, friends as she called, over at their home. A new one every night. He's the only consistent one._

_There was one rule whenever she had her friends over and that was to stay in her own room until she said otherwise. But one night, over a month ago, she was in dire need of a glass of water, so she sneaked out of her room and tiptoed to the kitchen. And as she did that, she inevitably stumbled upon her mother wrestling this giant, naked. They both were. She instantly dashed back into her room, no longer thirsty._

_"Erin, sweetie. I want you to meet someone special. His name's Mikhail." her mother said kindly as she comb through her hair with her fingers._

_"Hello, Erin."_

_She just stared at him. He was big - muscular and tall - stern and had an accent. He towered over her mother's petit frame, almost tripling in size. Instantly, she knows she doesn't like him. He was intimidating._

_The images from the other night swarmed her thoughts. She had no idea what he was doing to her mother on the couch nor the reason for their nakedness._

_If they were fighting, why were their clothes off?_

_"C'mon now, Dandelion. Where are your manners?"_

_This whole encounter felt so different, the way that her mother was speaking to her was so utterly strange. Her mother was nice for once. She no longer was cranky and irritated. She must've had her 'juice' this morning._

_"Hello, Sir."_

_He laughed and knelt in front of her, wrapping his large hands on her small shoulders. "You just call me Misha. Ok, Erin?"_

_His voice was so deep that it felt as though her whole body rumbled with each syllable. Just like some of her mother's friends, he was foreign._

_"Come give me a hug." he said as he opened his arms wide and she did as she was told, like always, and wrapped her arms around chest._

_She felt uncomfortable but she couldn't just say no. Her mother will be mad._

_He kissed her cheek, pulling away as he does and stared at her with his light blue eyes that sent shivers down her spine. Those were the lightest blues she've ever seen._

_"I will be your new daddy, Erin." he said, cupping her cheeks. "Your mother and I will get married."_

_He was getting too friendly and heavy with each touch but maybe with all the muscles, he doesn't know his strength. Maybe this was how they greet people in where he's from._

_Her eyes widen in disbelief. Her mother was replacing her father with a new man._

_"But what about daddy? I don't want a new daddy, mom." she looked up at her mother with tears in her eyes._

_Four years had past since her father had died and it has been a very difficult and stressful four years._

_Her father was a hardworking and family-oriented Christian. As a truck driver, he would travel a lot which meant that she wouldn't see him for days at a time. Though they didn't have much, they had enough to live a decent life. He'd always take her out on outings. He'd buy her gifts whenever he comes back. Dolls, clothes, shoes, whatever she wanted, she had. Fishing, camping trips, Sunday lunches after church; those were the fondest memories she had with her dad. The good times when her mother hadn't forgotten how to be a mother._

_Just like everyone else in this world, her father had his demons and his were gambling and cigarettes._

_"Sorry, babe. Erin and I needs to have a little talk." she huffed before yanking her roughly by the arm and dragging her to the side._

_"Now you listen to me, you ungrateful brat. I'm not going to let you ruin my chances of a better life. I need a man, ok. Do you like the way we're living, huh? Do you like going to bed on an empty stomach?"_

_She shook her head._

_"Yeah, that's what I thought. I'm going to marry him whether you like it or not. So, you better get off your high horse. He loves me and I love him and he agreed to love you too. I know you miss your dad but he's dead. He smoked his life away. If he really loved us, he wouldn't have left us with nothing, Erin. We've talked about this, he's in a better place. He's happy and we should be too. Misha is a good man. You'll love him. Now be a good girl and apologise."_

_She nodded and walked over to him._

_Her mother was right. If her dad had really loved them, he wouldn't have left them with nothing. Not only did the medical bills from his chemotherapy left them bankrupt, his gambling debt did too._

_The day that he was buried, as they went back home, they went back to a vacate notice. Just like that, overnight, they were homeless. Every single thing they owned were seized by the collectors. They had nothing._

_Erin was too young to understand what was going on, she was only six, but she understood enough to know that her life would never be the same._

_"Sorry." she muttered under her breath as she lightly kicked the loose gravel._

_"Erin." her mother warned._

_Sighing, "Sorry, dad."_

_"It's ok,_ solnyshko _. You don't have to call me dad if you don't want to. Call me Misha." he said kindly as he lightly tousled with her hair._

_"Cheer up. You are beautiful when you smile." he lifted her chin so that she was looking into his light blue eyes, "Do you like Disney princess?"_

_Her eyes widen again but this time, she nodded with a huge grin on her face. She've always wanted to go to Disneyland but they never had the money. While most of her friends had already gone to the Happiest Place on Earth, all she did was listen to their tales. But that's soon about to change, he was going to take her to Disneyland. A land where dreams come true._

_"Great! Get your things pack because we're going to Disney World!"_

_Jumping in joy, "What? Really! Oh my god! Thanks dad!" she exclaimed, hugging him. Not only was she going to Disney World, she was also going to ride an aeroplane for the very first time._

_"Mommy! Can I go now? I wanna tell Peyton."_

_"Yea. Go ahead, sweetie."_

_That weekend, they did went to Disney World and she loved every inch of that 27,258 acres park._

_She loved her new dad._

_Of course, a trip to the world's biggest Disneyland would buy a ten year old's heart._

_The next weekend, they moved out of their ratty apartment in Roseland and into his house in Bridgeport where she had the perfect bedroom._

_"You don't have to worry anymore,_ solnyshko _. Your mother and I will get married and as long as you're here, you are safe. I will take care of you."_

_If only she knew, 'here' was a living a nightmare._

_If only she knew, what went on in his brain with every touch, hug and kiss._

.

_10:52am_

"Noah. Mommy hurts, ok."

Her arms were aching.

"Please, I'm begging you, don't cry anymore." she bit her lip, kissing his soft hair as she laid him back into his playpen. The agony in her ribs was unrelenting, telling her that she needed to see a doctor. "Just play with your toys. Mommy needs to rest."

She crawled back onto the couch and stared at the ceiling above. Bunny knew what he was about to do to her and like always, she didn't do a damn thing.

_Why was she still waiting for her mother to change?_

As she grew older, as she came to understand how life really was, she realised she was doing the exact same thing as her mother had in order to survive.

_I had to do what I had to do, Dandelion._

Those were her exact words. The day she saw her mother with a bunch of cash in her hands.

She didn't know it then but her mother was prostituting herself. And she had fallen in love with one of her clients, Misha.

Bunny had to do what she had to do to survive and that's exactly what Erin was doing.

Like mother like daughter. The apple never really fall far from the tree.

Just as she was about to close her eyes, just as she was dozing off, Noah's whinny cries echoed in the one-bedroom apartment.

She ignored him, though she was frazzled inside, he needs to know what life really is all about.

* * *

_2:31pm_

Jay flicked his pen in between his fingers. A habit of his that says he was busy in his own head. One can only imagine the rambling thoughts that was trapped in there.

He's confused, conflicted and cluttered in his own head. He feels trapped inside.

He doesn't know what to do next.

Atwater and Ruzek were now out contacting their CIs who had frequented Garfield Park to see if they've seen or heard anything out of the ordinary in the last couple of days. At least they had something that might lead them to somewhere. He had nothing.

Jay eyed the folder on the lower bunch of his tower high stack of paperworks and files. He knows he shouldn't be going through her file again but he feels as though he was compelled to, even when he practically had it memorised already.

From time to time, he had to remind himself the real reason he had to look for Erin Lindsay; she's a material witness to a murder. This, whatever he was feeling, had to be pushed aside. His personal feelings for her has to be contained since it was clouding all his judgments. But there shouldn't have been any personal feelings in the first place.

He doesn't even know her.

"Ugh! What the hell!" he threw in the towel and snatched her file from beneath and turned three pages to her last arrest.

An arrest that had landed her one and a half years in Cook County Juvenile Center.

AGGRAVATED BATTERY - CAUSED GREAT BODILY HARM

Apparently, she was involved in a fight that resulted in the other party with a compound fracture. Since she was a repeated offender, she was sent to a detention centre as a last resort.

_Whoa!_

At first glance, he had thought she was an angel.

She looked to be angelic.

_What could've happened in her life for her to be so angry and violent?_

He flipped through the pages and landed to her first ever arrest at fourteen years old.

Another violence charge.

_What made her such an angry person?_

Arrest date: 10-AUG-2006  
Arrest charges: SIMPLE BATTERY-CAUSE BODILY HARM  
Dist. of Detention: DISTRICT 024 LOCKUP  
CPD Charges/Dispositions: RELEASED TO PARENTS  
Officer: RENZULLI

In the two years of criminal activity, she had graduated from simple battery to aggravated battery.

Residence: 1055 WEST 31ST PLACE, BRIDGEPORT, CHICAGO, IL 60609

"Hey, Tony! Wanna go for a ride?"

_2:40pm_

What was supposed to be a land of houses laid out one after the other, what he had thought would turn out to be Erin Lindsay's place of residence was nothing more than a disappointment of meat packing factories. The entire block was now a meat packing industry.

"1055 West 31st Place. You sure this the address?" Antonio asked as he slammed the door of the car shut. He looked up to see a sign that says _'The Smithfield Packing Co.'_

"Yea." he said, rubbing his hands across his face in frustration.

He's so disappointed in himself.

"Looks like Mr. Smithfield bought the entire block man." he chuckled, "Hey, maybe Atwater and Ruzek have something for us."

"Yea. Maybe."

They don't understand. No one understands. He doesn't just have to find her, he needs to find her. He has to find her. He has an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach that something bad is about to happen.

_3:02pm_

Before heading back to the station, they stopped at Dunkin Donuts for a snack. It couldn't have been any more of a cop stereotype.

So here they were at Dunkin Donuts, waiting in line for their order. While everyone else at the establishment were joyous, enjoying their sugary treats, he was sullen. He was angry at himself.

He had only one task and he couldn't even do that right. Maybe Voight was right, Intelligence wasn't for him.

"Jay, what's your order?" Antonio said, snapping him from his thoughts.

"Huh? Oh. Nah. Not hungry."

They went to the other end and waited some more. Jay crossed his arms around his chest and watched as two kids run around the serpentine while their mothers chat amongst each other without a care in the world.

He wished he could be like them.

At peace and carefree.

"Seriously man? When is Jay Halstead ever not hungry?"

He shrugged. Telling Antonio that he's worried about Erin might not be the smartest idea. It's irrational and totally uncalled for. He might think he's losing his mind for feeling this way about a complete stranger. He thinks that too. He, himself, don't understand why he's feeling this way.

One thing he knows for certain is that he isn't even, remotely, in her mind. She had already long forgotten about him. He knows she isn't spending half the time he does, thinking about a stranger. She seemed pretty pissed off when he concluded that someone was hitting her.

Maybe, like she said, she did fell.

He would never forgive himself if something worse were to happen to her since he could've have prevented it if he had tried harder.

He's obsessed with her.

"Is it about that witness - Lindsay?"

He has a big heart. But he has to remember, as a cop, he can't and shouldn't take cases too far. It's not professional and definitely not healthy.

"Hey. I'm sure she's fine."

But her rap sheet and her history with drugs and violence suggests otherwise.

_What if she's dead?_

_3:17pm_

Grabbing their treats, Jay decided to give it one last try. "Hey." the nerd behind the counter, who looked no more than a junior, stared up at him, "You seen her?"

He took his glasses off and squinted at his phone, "No. I don't think so. I mean, I just started here anyway. I can call my manager if you want."

Just as he was about to give an answer, out of his peripheral view, on his right, he heard what he thought was only in his head.

_Whispers_

Two women, one older than the other, whom Jay concluded was a duo of a mother and daughter, whispered to one another. He, sure as hell, heard the name _Erin_ in the mix.

"You two." Jay called out when they both saw that he had caught their eyes and began walking away.

"Is there something wrong officer?"

"You know her?" he asked as he held up his phone with a picture of Erin's mug shoot.

He can see her brows scrunched up in surprise. "So what if I do?" the older woman crossed her arms, "I ain't talkin' to a cop. I ain't no snitch."

Annoyed, Jay scratch the spot on his lip. Something he does when he's so utterly irritated.

_What's so bad about talking to the police?_

"And that's great. Really. And I can also arrest you for withholding information. Maybe a change of scenery would change your mind." Jay smiled sweetly.

"Mah!" the daughter exclaimed.

_Maybe that's why no one wants to talk to the police._

"Fine. Only cuz I haven't seen her lately."

* * *

_3:03pm_

Her hands were shaking so violently that she had thought she was seizing.

She doesn't know what to do or what she's doing anymore. She's just so tired.

Tears fell in torrents as she so desperately tried to keep her sanity.

She doesn't know how much longer she can take his restless cries. It's been so long since she've had any peace in her life. She can't even remember the last time she was actually genuinely at peace.

For the past thirty minutes, Noah, was, once again, screaming his head off. Nonstop. Like a broken record. On repeat that was only driving her over the edge.

But he wasn't the only one.

She's so frustrated.

The hurt that she's in was making this situation even worse. Normally she wouldn't be in so much despair.

There were times she wanted to run. To walk out the door and leave her child in their freezing apartment. She shamelessly admit to that. There were times that she wanted to escape. She have had plenty of opportunities but she never could actually do it. She can't leave him. She loves him too much. Her flesh and blood. She's the only family he's ever known and got.

He has no one but her.

She doesn't want to have those thoughts but sometimes, it just creeps up on her, especially at times as frustrating as right now.

_She wants to run._

"Baby, what's wrong?" she asked softly into his hair as she tiredly limped about the living room with her bare feet, gently swaying and rocking her sobbing child in her arms one more painful time.

It was at times like this that she wished he could speak. So he could tell her what's really wrong and so she could fix whatever problems he has.

"You have no fever. You're not wet. You just ate. I don't know what to do. What else do you want from me, Noah?" she sighed, reaching into the refrigerator for her bottle of vodka.

Annie will be mad but she doesn't really care anymore. Other than that she haven't eaten anything all day so it won't be long before she's drunk.

Even though she had promised herself to never drink in front of her child, even though she knew it was wrong, even though she vowed to never follow in her mother's footsteps, today needs to be an exception. She's in an agonising amount of pain and has nothing but Tylenol to dull the aches.

Twisting the cap open, she sat her wailing Noah down on the kitchen countertop, steadying him with one arm as she work on opening the liquor with one hand.

It was as she felt the cool liquid burning the back of her throat that he decided to smack her abdomen with his little fists.

"Fuck!" she coughed and doubled over in pain. It was nonetheless excruciating considering the amount of kicks Misha had given her the other day.

That seemed to lighten the mood for him, seeing his mother in pain. It wasn't a surprise since his father took pleasure in causing her pain for years and years of her life.

She took another large gulp since she doesn't know what else to do but drink. To not only numb the physical pain but also everything else surrounding her.

"Maaaaa!" he began fussing again, thrashing his little arms in the air, causing Erin to groan in frustration.

_Why couldn't her baby be like other babies who hardly ever cries?_

This was one of those times that she wished she had taken plan B or even gone back ten years to when she was fourteen and had told somebody.

.

_That night, the night before her fourteenth birthday, she went to bed a happy being, excited to wake up a fourteen year old, excited to spend a day with her friends, a day that will be dedicated to her._

_But that day never happened. She woke up a different girl, a girl who had given up on life. Erin woke up with her entire existence questioned. The hell that she was in was only the beginning._

_That was nothing compared to this._

_She woke up to an excruciating pain. A pain like none other. It felt as though her insides were on fire._

_What's happening?_

_His heavy, deep breathing were in her ears. His sweat was dripping onto her skin. She tried to scream but soon realised she couldn't. He had placed his hand on her mouth._

_He was on top of her, crushing her petite body with his entire weight. She could smell him, his cologne. She could feel him thrusting in and out of her body. He was grabbing her in places he should never even think of touching._

_Confused._

_She was so beyond confused. She couldn't understand why he was doing this to her._

_Was it because she had finally filled in her curves?_

_Was it because she had finally become a woman?_

_Tears fell in torrents as he shoved his entire length into her one last time. Quivering and groaning as he does. She whimpered, squirming underneath him when she felt the hot liquid filling her inside._

_He laid on top of her, grunting and out of breath, for what seemed like forever before actually pulling out._

_She dare not look at him._

_She hates him._

_"Happy birthday,_ solnyshko _."_

_And that was her birthday gift._

_She had lost her virginity to her stepfather._

.

_3:38pm_

Those piercing light blue irises were right before her again. Just like that early 8th July morning, the day of her birthday. These eyes weren't any different. It held no innocence, no remorse, no tranquility. All she saw was _him_ on top of her. The man who ruin her life.

_How dumb and naïve can she be?_

She had actually thought that her stepfather was a decent man with occasional violent tendencies and she had successfully convinced herself that the beatings didn't really matter, that it wasn't a big deal. It was bearable. It was her fault for getting involved anyway. He provided for them and that was better than homelessness.

At that point in her life, she would've believed every single word that came of her mother's mouth.

She trusted him. Never in a million years would she have thought that he was capable of such a cruel act. Especially towards her, his stepdaughter that he had adopted.

_She should've known._

While it takes years to build trust, it only takes seconds to destroy. After all the years she had entrusted in her stepfather, it took him that one time to destroy her.

The most baffling question that still boggles her to this day was why he had waited four years to snatch her innocence away.

Four long years of him being her 'father', of trusting him, of building a relationship with him. That night was absolutely unexpected.

She just turned fourteen. Just a second prior.

He was probably scheming his way into her bedroom since day one, since they met at the park and ever since their trip to Disney World.

She hates him.

With her blood boiling, her mind enraged, and her vision blurred with all the impending tears, it was as if someone had taken over her soul. Her right arm was possessed. It didn't feel like hers, as if she had no control over what she was about to do.

She didn't know how or when she had lifted her arm. She didn't know how or when her palm had clamped over her baby's mouth and nose.

Shaking violently, she stared into his light blue eyes as her tears spilled one after the other.

The familiar light blue irises.

He ruined her. If he hadn't had raped her night after night, she wouldn't have felt worthless in this screwed up world. She wouldn't have made a series of mistakes that landed her here, where she is today.

She hates him.

She clamped her hands tighter into his face. His limb thrashing in the air. That only made him scream louder, snapping her from doing the unthinkable.

_3:42pm_

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" she gasped, quickly releasing her grip on his mouth. She watched and begged him to take a huge gulp of air. A moment longer, he would've been dead and she would've gone to prison. And be branded as a baby killer.

"What have I done?!"

She had almost killed her baby. Her sweet boy.

"Why couldn't _You_ have taken me already?"

Though she have tried many times, they were always unsuccessful.

She's not worthy of life. She shouldn't live. She has no rights to exist in this world.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby!" she cried out loud and buried her face into her shaky hands. Shocked by her actions.

She didn't mean it. She didn't know what had happened. She blacked out. Never would she ever want to end her baby's life.

He doesn't deserve a mother like her. A mother who could barely handle life, who's weak and timid. He's better off with Annie.

Maybe she should leave this world.

"Please, forgive mommy baby! I'm sorry. I know you hate me! I'm sor-" she cried just as loudly when a knock resonated into the four walls of her apartment.

She immediately tensed up and froze. Lifting her son up from the kitchen top, she hugged his tiny body close to her chest and let his exhaust remind her why she had opt to keep him.

It was love. An answer as simple as that.

She loves her son.

This, as she came to realise was just a minor curve that life throws out of the blue to test ones resiliency and ability to cope. As proven, she had clearly failed. But that was no reason to give up. She has to get back up on two feet and stop sulking in her misery. She has to keep it together for Noah.

She's not alone.

_3:47pm_

Another knock echoed and it was then that she knew that it just wasn't in her head.

_What if it was Misha?_

He had said he wasn't finished with her.

She's terrified.

She hates him.

She loves _him_.

She can't go through _that_ again.

. . .

_"Chaos, by its very definition cannot be controlled. Once introduced, all order and intention is rendered useless. The outcome of chaos can never be predicted. The only certainty it brings is the devastation it leaves in its wake." - Emily Thorne_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> “Solnyshko” = Literally means "small sun". It is used to mean "my sunshine".


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Voight hadn't had rescued Erin from the streets, her life wouldn't have gotten any better. He wouldn't have helped her become the strong and independent woman she was meant to be. She wouldn't have met Detective Jay Halstead and fall in love with him the way she was meant to. She would've been broken and lost
> 
> A Chicago P.D. Inspired FanFiction.
> 
> Lindsay/Halstead  
> #Linstead

**Chapter VI**

_3:26pm_

He was dreaming.

Jay knew he was. This just had to be a dream. This cannot be real. This cannot be happening. But it is.

He's not ready.

He cannot see her just yet. Apart of him was grinning from ear to ear while the other was a bundle of nerves.

He's both excited and nervous.

_But why?_

Driving down Interstate-90, Jay gripped the stirring wheel tighter around his fists. He's nervous because the woman at Dunkin Donuts, who coincidentally lives in the building across from Erin, had said that she hadn't seen her in last couple of days.

_What if something did happened to her?_

He'd never be able to forgive himself since he could've prevented it if he had tried harder to paster her in confiding in him.

He could've helped her.

_3:30pm_

Slamming the car door with a bang, they parked by the sidewalk of one of the many identical apartments. Apartments that had no class or sturdiness. One that looked as though it might collapse at any given second.

He's sure as hell a simple huff and puff will blow the all the apartments away.

"Are you sure this is the address the lady gave you?" Antonio enquired as he rounded to the sidewalk, standing outside the building where Erin Lindsay supposedly lives.

He was just as equally concerned to be in a sketchy neighbourhood - Fuller Park. A neighbourhood where cops aren't welcomed.

By the stout looks every single soul have been giving them in the five seconds since they got out of the vehicle, they know that they have already been made. Given that a couple of street gangs by the corner have been eyeballing them.

No one likes cops and he couldn't really blame them. Nothing good ever happens when the police are involved.

Jay glanced at his notepad in his hand then at Antonio, who was gawking back at the thugs at the corner.

_1335 South Princeton Avenue_

"This is the address." he confirmed. "Hey. I don't think they're that stupid to wreck an unmarked police car in broad day light."

"They're that stupid to be wearing handkerchiefs around their heads."

He chuckled. "C'mon. Let's go." Jay said as they entered one of the many identical complexes.

_Block B_

_Apt. 4D_

They both had to admit, they weren't ready to be at Fuller Park.

The woman from Dunkin Donuts had said that she hadn't seen Erin in days like she always does whenever she headed out to work in the morning. That got Jay agitated and his worry for a complete stranger quadrupled.

He brushed his hand over his left hip as they headed for the hallway to the elevator, checking to make sure his weapon hadn't been swiped. One can never really know the capabilities of the inhabitants of one of Chicago's worst neighbourhoods.

_3:37pm_

They stood for what seemed like forever at what supposedly was the lobby before a guy coming from the back hollered at them.

"Yo. That shit ain't working. Landlord's sleazy as fuck. He ain't spending a dime on this shit show." he said, pointing towards the stairwell.

They thanked him before heading towards the back. No wonder people were laughing at them.

The second they stepped foot into the stairwell, they were hit by the pungent odour of urine and liquor. Jay recoiled from the smell, palming both his mouth and nose tightly as he tiptoed his way up to the fourth floor. Surely and sturdily avoiding any questionable puddles.

He have seen his fair share of dilapidated apartments but he can very well say that this building was by far the worst building he've ever had the pleasure of entering.

It's definitely the worst of the worst.

It was like a carnival filled with chaos in this building. Loud music of all genre were blaring, people were shouting, doors were slamming, babies were crying.

He can never live in such environment. He needs his peace and quiet. Something this apartment doesn't have. He wonders if anyone can even sleep with such loud nuisance.

"This place's a nightmare." Jay cringed in disgust. His arms were as rigid as it can be. He dare not to touch anything.

Everything seemed to be broken. The lights, the railings, the chipped tiles on the floor and, of course, the elevator. If there was an earthquake, no one is going to make it out alive. He's sure of it.

He shouldn't have such thoughts. He absolutely doesn't want that fate for Erin.

No human should be living in this dump.

Erin shouldn't be living here.

_3:45pm_

He was slowly getting to know her.

In a way, he was adding information to her description, building an in depth character to what he already knows.

_Erin Lindsay, a 24 year old woman with troubled past, who's now living in one of Chicago's worst neighbourhoods._

_Oh and who witnessed a murder._

"Hey, man, I know you feel some sort of obligation towards her but you gotta remember what we're here for. Got it?" Antonio said before knocking on the flimsy and thin door. "I'll do the talking."

He nodded.

_This was it._

His palms were clammy. His heart was pounding a million miles per second. He's nervous and he couldn't grasp the idea why.

_3:47pm_

Antonio knocked on the door a little harder and with his fist this time.

There was a baby screaming that sounded like it was coming from her apartment.

The door opened tentatively, the chain still locked to the door frame and her face peered out from the side.

_Her face._

He definitely had the wind knock right out of his lungs at the sight before him. She looked so different from when he last saw her. Now, she looked somewhat smaller and definitely thinner. Sickly even with her pasty complexion and sunken cheeks. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy. It's clear that she've been crying. Not to mention, there was a deep bruise on the corner of her left eye, along with a matching split lip.

"Erin Lindsay?"

"Who's asking?" she said, her face scrunched in confusion. He can't help but notice the split look of relief that washed over her when she saw Antonio.

Jay was somehow relieved to hear that raspy voice of hers but at the same time, deplored by how hard she tried to stop her voice her shaking.

"Chicago P.D., Detective Dawson and this is my partner." Antonio said, pulling out his badge. "We'd like to ask you a few questions about what you saw."

He left it at that and let his message sink in, letting her process. Her eyes widen a tad second after.

_She looked scared._

"Sorry. I. I can't." Erin said, shaking her head as she hurried to close the door on the detectives. But he was quicker and stuck his foot out in between the space.

She can't talk to the police or be seen talking to the cops since Misha will always get the memo. He'll know. He has eyes everywhere. And even though this has nothing to do with him, he wouldn't miss a chance in doing what he did to her again.

_Why was she so scared?_

"Ma'am, I know it's a lot to handle but what you saw could help us take a killer off the streets."

The wailing cries continued and Jay can see that she had to physically stop herself from crumbling. He have never seen a mother as overwhelmed as her.

She really needs a break. He feels so sorry for her.

"Ok. Can we do this some other time? My son's throwing a tantrum." she exhaled a wheezy breath. The pain of that aspiration was evident on her face.

She has to keep it together. For now at least. Her conscience was overtaking all morality, scaring her with guilt. Guilt of the wrong she had inflicted towards her innocent child. She has to control her emotions. She can't spit it out even when she feels like she needs to. He'll be taken away from her and she can't handle that.

She simply can't.

"It's better that we talk when your memory's still fresh, ma'am."

Nodding, she might as well get it over with right now. Sooner or later, she still had to do it. There's no way in running from it. Also, she knows how persistent cops can be. They will never leave her alone.

Closing the door, Jay can hear the chain slid across the bolt and the door opened wide to reveal a tornado for an apartment.

Walking in was like walking in Siberia. It's colder in here than it is outside. That explains all the layers of clothing. He doesn't know how they can even survive such extreme climate. Jay can't live without his heater.

Everything was a mess.

He didn't know where to look.

_At her?_

She wasn't even looking at any of them.

_The apartment?_

There were too much of a messy to just focus on one thing.

_Or the wailing child behind the playpen?_

That's another information to add to her description.

_Erin Lindsay, a 24 year old woman with troubled past, who's now living in one of Chicago's worst neighbourhoods with her son._

Just then, it smacked him right across the face - she could already be taken or even married.

_Why was he suddenly so disappointed?_

"Sorry about the mess..." she started to chuckle but it came out more as a groan and her hands flew to clutch her left side.

She still hasn't looked at him and he wondered if she'll even recognise him.

He doubt it.

_3:51pm_

Now that he had to whole the view in front of him, he felt a lump stuck in his throat.

Her clothes were hanging off her already small frame. Though she was wearing a jacket, it almost looked like the jacket, itself, was swallowing her up. The jacket was wearing her. Not the other way around.

With her head lowered, he was fairly certain that she was doing that to hide the splotches painted on her face. And her hand on her neck to cover the obvious thick finger marks that clearly says someone tried to strangle the life out of her.

This was way worse than he had imagined since now, there's a infant involved.

He watched as she shuffled to the still-crying child, his little arms wailing in the air. A wince escaped her lips as she reached for the baby.

Judging by the way she was walking, he can very well conclude that she had cracked a couple of ribs. So, carrying an over fifteen pound child shouldn't be on her agenda right now other than getting healed since all the heavy lifting can very likely cause a punctured lung or two.

But he understands; she's a mother. She can't just leave him to cry all day. A good mother tends to her every child's needs. She loves her son . He can see it.

An indescribable rage built up inside of him. The thought that anyone would do this despicable act to her angered him. Last time she had _a_ bruise on her face and that, itself, had him all fired up, now he wondered what she was hiding underneath all the layers.

He don't know why but he feels responsible.

"Who did this to you, Erin?" he questioned. Realising then that he had actually said it out loud. A question that was supposed to only be expressed in his head.

He wondered if he had crossed the line.

_He definitely did._

Though he wanted to reach forward to take her hand, her arm that she was cradling her son in, he knows he can't.

They don't know each other like that.

They're not friends.

They're nobody to each other.

"What? Nobody. I-" she uttered as she looked up at the other detective. He looked familiar, very familiar, but she just can't quite pinpoint where she had seen him.

_A client?_

That would be and could only be the viable explanation since that's the only time she would ever need to interact with men.

As they finally locked gaze, Jay can't help but notice her beautiful forest green pupils. They were glazed and filled with a deep agonising melancholy hidden underneath. He wants nothing more than to see those eyes light up and hurt whomever was terrorising her.

Antonio cleared his throat and they both snapped back to reality. Her lips curled ever so slightly in a smile.

_She recognised him._

"I fell down the stairs, Mr. Detective." her voice was almost a whisper. If he hadn't actually been paying attention, he don't think he'd even hear her.

"You guys should sit." she said before clearing the pillow and blanket off the couch with her free hand. "Please."

"Thank you."

Soon enough the child began to quiet down as he buried his face into her chest. She grimace at that but doesn't move him.

"It's a little chilly in here." Antonio said, standing from the couch to sit on the arm rest, giving her a seat on the other end of the two-seater sofa while Jay scooted to the other side.

"That thing isn't working." she pointed to the furnace. "The landlord's _el_ _cheapo_." she smiled as she bounced her child on her lap.

Though she wanted to crawl back into bed and cry and cry, she has to keep her sanity intact. She has to be cautious. A wrong move or word could have Noah taken away.

She's worried.

She's paranoid that she might break and spill.

"So, is it ok if we start?"

She nodded. "Yea, sure."

"We'd like to know what exactly you saw that night."

She narrowed her eyes and shrugged, "To be honest, I didn't really see much. I was just walking to get to the other side of the park cuz, you know, that's quicker. Then, all of a sudden, I heard them shouting..." she began to explain the events of that night when Noah decided that he needed all the attention to himself and started whining and batting his tiny hands at her face.

"Do you know what they were arguing about?"

"Noah, stop." she grabbed his little hands and paused for a second or two to think.

"Umm, she lied about something, I guess. They were shouting in Russian. I know a little Russian - shh, shh, shhh..."

Jay watched as she desperately tried to quiet him down. To the point where she even turned red in embarrassment. The child arched his back, pitching his palms at her face as he started an ear piercing tantrum. She pulled back and he knew that had to hurt.

Noah's mad at her. He deserves to hit her. After what she had done to him, it's only fair.

_Noah hates her._

He has all the reason to. She's a bad mother.

This was why Jay do not aspire to have any children. Sure, they're cute and adorable and nice to looked at but the cold and harsh truth was, they're a living nightmare. They're needy, impractical and make one hell of a mess. Not to mention, they're ridiculously expensive too.

He really don't think he'll ever have one of his own.

"Did you get a chance to see his face?" Jay asked.

She huffed when he slapped her chest, "Sorry." she apologised before standing up to rock him in her arms.

He definitely have a new found respect for all moms.

"No. It was dark and I was a few feet away and..." Erin stopped, closing her eyes as she does. She can't take him anymore.

_Noah had to stop relentlessness at some point, right?_

'Fake it till you make.'

That motto definitely does not apply to her. Though she've tried, she just can't keep pretending that she's fine.

"May I?" Antonio said, reaching for Noah. It was evident that she already has a lot on her plate with whatever was happening in her life and a clingy child wasn't make it any easier for her.

She steadied her gaze at the shorter detective, studying him, and tighten her hold on her son. Never have she ever had anyone but Annie and Maya hold Noah. He've always only been surrounded by female. She don't think a man has ever held him.

Jay smiled. He knew Antonio wouldn't be able to resist kids. This was bound to happen.

She hesitantly gave her baby to him. She don't know why but doing just that killed her. It hurts her.

_She's crazy and bipolar with her want for holding her so. One minute she wants him, one minute she doesn't._

She was now the one whose aching for comfort.

"Sorry." she sighed, slowly lowering herself onto the sofa beside Jay. Never really leaving her gaze off her son who magically seemed to forget all his tears.

_4:03pm_

They were close. Their knees were almost touching and Jay can feel his heart in his throat at their mere proximity. "He didn't let us sleep at all last night." she said, running her hands gently over her face.

_Us?_

Jay had to admit, he have never heard a baby cry as much as he had. With his lack of experience, he sure isn't one to say.

"Ay mano!" Antonio cooed and lifted him up in the air and he squealed happily. Erin can't help but freak out at what the detective was doing. But when he began giggling and showed off his two front teeth, she smiled and relaxed. It has been so long since she've even heard hislaugh.

"¿Por qué estás llorando? Mira a tu bonita mamá, está tan cansada. Dale un descanso. ¿Ok, mano?"

She smiled.

"How old is he?" the detective next to her questioned.

"Eleven months."

"He's really cute." Jay said as he turned around to shake his soft and smooth hands and pinch his chubby cheeks.

_Babies really do have the softest skin._

She smiled, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear, "Thank you."

Though Erin was as frail as a twig, he's glad to see that that wasn't the case for the eleven month old, her son. While she probably wasn't feeding herself, he don't actually know that for certain, but at least she was providing nutrients for her ever growing child.

"He looks just like you." Antonio added as he sat back down on the couch with Noah's back to his chest. She let him stay there since he seemed to be much happier and that was all she really wanted. For him to be happy.

Looking over incredulously at her son who was sitting quietly with the detective and snuggling against his chest, slowly dozing off, she watched in awe. Erin wasn't one to believe it magic but now she does.

_He's a baby whisperer._

She smiled thinly. She thinks otherwise. While everyone who've ever seen them together agreed with that statement, she never saw what they saw. She only see _him_ in Noah. She knows she shouldn't be thinking this way but sometimes, she simply can't help it.

Maybe that was what he needed. A man, a father figure in his life to raise him to be the strong man he's meant to be since she's the only 'father' he've ever known and seen all his eleven months of life. She's playing both the parent.

Bunny and Misha had only ever seen him twice and in both occasions, they barely even glanced at him. It didn't matter to her since it wasn't like she had any expectations. She didn't even want their filthy hands on her child.

"What did you do, Tony?" Jay laughed.

Antonio shrugged, "What can I say? Babies love me."

She smiled.

She should smile more. She looks breathtaking when she does.

"So, where were we, Mr. Detective?" she cocked her head to one side and smiled. He has the most calming shades of blue irises.

Something about him relaxes her.

Something about those eyes told her that she's safe.

Something about him made her smile the she hadn't in years.

"Right." he said and pulled out his phone, "Have you ever seen this woman?" he said, handing her his phone.

She took the phone and as she did, the sleeve of her jacket rise ever so slightly to reveal a large dark purple bruise that rounded the entire circumstance of her wrist.

Just like that, everything changed in him. He was once again enraged.

"Umm, no...Is she...?"

He nodded, "Her name was Emily Kmetko. Does that name ring a bell?"

"No."

"What about our guy? I know you said it was dark but maybe you could give us an estimate on his height, weight, anything really..."

She shrugged, "Yeah. I guess, over six feet. 6'1''-ish, I don't know. Umm, he's big...like muscles big...Since I heard his voice, I think I can recognise it if I heard it again."

Noah yawned sleepily as he rubbed his eyes with his little fists.

_He's a beautiful child. He definitely gets his looks from his mother._

"Ok, lil man's fast asleep." Antonio said as he transferred Noah back into his mother's arms. It's been a long time since he've held a baby and he absolutely missed it.

"Thank you, detective." she smiled and placed a kiss on Noah's forehead, inhaling his sweet scent. Instantly she was comforted.

An irk have been bothering Jay ever since he walked into Erin's apartment. He can't ignore the fact the she's all banged up. Antonio may see past the bruises on her face but it was all he could actually stare at.

She's limping. She's crouching. She's practically whispering because whatever she does, it hurts like hell.

He's angry. He wants to do something. He needs to help her.

_But how?_

As long as this 'man', whomever he may be, was here, this child and his mother aren't safe.

_Erin and Noah aren't safe._

_4:17pm_

Looking around apartment, there was nothing homie about the space. There were no curtains; just blinds. No frames or pictures to showcase the Lindsay family. Not even a picture of Noah.

Everything looked so dull and lifeless. Something wasn't right,' he can just feel it.

"What were you doing at Garfield Park so late at night?" he questioned out of the blue.

Narrowing her eyes, she felt herself hesitate, scrambling to find an answer. She can't just tell him that she was working the streets. It's illegal. Prostitution is illegal. Beside, what she does is an embarrassment. "Is it a crime to be at a public park?" she defended herself.

"No. Of course not." he said, ignoring the nudge to his back from Antonio to chose his next words carefully.

"How did you get those bruises, Ms. Lindsay?"

The young woman blinked a couple of times and looked at them as if noticing them for the first time. She rubbed the bruise on her wrist absentmindedly.

He was starting to get under her nerves with his perpetual questions, pretending to actually care for them. They were just his next project to fantasise shout.

_He doesn't care._

_No one does._

"They're nothing, detective. I'm fine. Like I said I fell down the stairs."

He knows that was bullshit. Falling down the stairs doesn't leave oneself with think finger marks around the neck.

The next words and sentences that came out of his mouth was one of regret. Sometimes he really doesn't have a filter. He should really think before he speaks.

"Ms. Lindsay, you're putting your son's life at risk by continuing to expose him to hostile environments. I mean no wonder he's uncomfortable here, in his own home."

_Yap. He's a jerk. The second that vomited out of his mouth, he wished he could take it back._

She's livid.

"Excuse me." she scuffled. Rising from her seat, she crossed her arms and looked down at him. He had the audacity to say that Noah isn't happy with her, that she'd purposefully endanger her son. "My son's perfectly comfortable with me. Ok? With me." she seethed, pointing at herself.

He can practically see the smoke coming out of her ear and nose.

"I'm his _mother_...And whatever happens in our lives has nothing to do with you, detective."

"It does when a defenceless child's life's in danger."

She tried her hardest to not shout and go off at this idiot for the sake of Noah but that task was proven difficult for her when he simply wouldn't stop bickering.

"I can assure you Noah's not in any danger. I'm a good mother. I'd never hurt him or let anyone put their hands on my son. I make sure of that. I'm a good mother..." her voice cracked.

_Who was she trying to convince?_

"I'm not saying that you aren't. I'm sure you're an excellent mother and I know you love your son. He may not be in danger but his mother is. How are you supposed to protect him when you're hurt? You may be fooling yourself with his words but if a man puts his hands on you that doesn't mean he loves you." Jay stood from the couch and look her in the eyes. It was clear that she was controlling her anger with every clench of her jaws and fists.

He got it all wrong. There is no man. She has no boyfriend or husband that loves her.

She stared at him, silent for a long moment. "You don't even know what you're talking about."

He really doesn't.

"Enlighten me then. Let us protect you. We can protect you, Erin. You can trust us. Just give us his name."

She snickered. From past experiences, cops can never be trusted.

_What the fuck is happening?_

She has absolutely no idea. From discussing about the murder she witnessed to talking about nonsense.

"Jay." Antonio warned.

He knows it's none of his business.

"I fell down the stairs." she repeated. With her nose flaring and eye bags that showed nothing but exhaustion, she blinked the impending tears. One after the other, the tears wouldn't stop. And Jay knew he's an asshole.

Sighing, he knows she's not going to say anything. She's not going to give him up.

_Why was she protecting him?_

"The police have the authority to remove a child if he or she suspects mistreatment, neglect or abuse -"

"Halstead! That's enough." Antonio stepped forward.

She burst into tears and collapsed onto the couch, her hands wrapped around Noah protectively. "You can't. Don't. I didn't do anything. You can't take him away from me! He's mine..."

_What have he done?_

He just wanted to help but ended up creating a whole other problem.

_He can sometimes be an asshole._

He never should've opened his mouth.

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Lindsay. My associate doesn't know what he's talking about. We're not going to take Noah away. I promise." he said before giving Jay a death stare.

Of course, he doesn't know what it's like to be threatened in that nature. He doesn't have a child. All he has to do was think of himself. He doesn't get it that he can't just throw that aspersion around when he didn't get his way.

Jay's taking this case too personal.

_No. He couldn't care less about the case. He's taking her too personal._

He likes her. Of course he does.

_4:24pm_

He doesn't know if he ought to tell Voight to take him off the case. His judgment is too clouded.

"Just leave. Please. I don't ever want to see your face again."

She was looking directly at _him_.

* * *

_4:27pm_

Just as they were about to open the door to the stairwell, Antonio tugged Jay by the arm. "What the fuck's wrong with you, Halstead?!"

He looked pissed.

"You don't just threaten a mother like that! You just can't!" he shouted. It's unethical.

Jay held his hands up in surrender, "Well, sorry for wanting to catch the bastard who's been using her as a punching bag. I don't know about you man but have you seen her face? Or the way she's limping? I just wanted to help! She has a kid!"

Antonio wasn't blind and unlike Jay, he mind his own business. If she did wanted their help, if she was really desperate of their assistance, she wouldn't spilled the beans the first time he had asked her.

"You got a twisted way of helping her. I know you mean well, Halstead. But not everyone can be saved. And Erin Lindsay's not one of them."

* * *

_4:26pm_

It was when she heard those doors closed that she let out her deepest pain. Biting her flesh of her skin, she dared herself not to scream out loud. Her heart was broken again.

She stupidly trusted him. The guy, the cop, she had bumped into a few weeks ago. He was different - nice and caring - or so she thought he was. With his kind eyes and words, she had thought he was ever giving. She yet again fell into a man's spell.

_How naïve can she be?_

She should've known. She've been down this road before. All men are the same, he's no different than Misha. Domination was what men wanted and with her insecurities and timidity, it was easy for her to grant them just that.

It's all her fault.

That was all her doing, she trusts too easy.

Tears prickled at all corners of her eyes, clouding her vision and gasping for air, she stumbled into her bedroom with Noah sleeping soundly against her shoulder.

_Who threatens to take a child away from it's mother?_

Something hit close to her aching heart when he said that to her. It was probably the truths to his statement. Maybe he should take Noah away from her, especially for what she've just done to him.

She doesn't deserve a sweet by like him.

Noah deserves a mother who's sane and who can look after herself. And that's not her. She can barely even take care of herself. Just look at her, she barely eats. She barely sleeps. She's barely functioning. She've turned into everything she never wanted to become.

She've turned into Bunny.

_Her mother._

Erin's ribcage constricted, she suddenly cannot get a deep breath in. The process of breathing was one agonising one and she cried out loud when her lungs felt like they were on fire.

Her stomach flipped at the ripples of pain cascading and shooting off the walls of her bruised torso, she felt as though she might pass out at any given second. So, she lay Noah gently on her bed before her knees could buckled.

Her entire world was spinning, assaulting her with disgusting images of her hands on Noah's tiny face, of Misha on top of her, of Jay Halstead threatening her.

He really did hurt her.

_Why was he having an affect on her?_

She has to end this. She has to end all the hurt that she's in. It's too painful to be carrying around the guilt and shame on a daily basis. She've tried and it just took a toll on her.

Reaching into her nightstand, she pulled the drawer and dug out what she've been craving for days now. Though she swore to Annie that she hadn't got any left, she lied, she always has one stashed away for emergencies and today definitely was an emergency.

Her legs gave out and she collapsed against the bed. Curling up into a ball on the linoleum, her head was spinning. She's wheezing, choking on air. She needed to get away from reality and that white powder could give her just that. _Numb_. That was what she wanted. She doesn't want to feel anymore.

Grabbing her lighter, she pondered into the bathroom, locking the door. She can't expose Noah to the toxic fumes.

_That makes her a good mother, right?_

She's protecting him.

She really just wants to be the best.

Taking in shaky, wheezy breaths as tears continued to slide down her sullen cheeks, she tightened the band around her forearm with her teeth, cooking the powder, tapping the syringe to get rid of any air bubbles before actually shooting the cocaine up her vein.

Truth be told, she never really enjoyed stabbing herself with a needle even when that gave her an instant high like none other. She never excelled at pocking herself with a needle. Hence, she simply snorted them since the sight of blood everywhere was never a sight she liked to see.

She sighed and laid back on the cold tiles, trembling, as a surge of rush hit her like a bolt of lightning.

That instant high. She craved it and she's finally not feeling.

She can't feel anymore.

She feels amazing.

She's flying.

She's on top of the world, on cloud nine.

She so feels good. Like she've actually accomplished something.

She smiled, she's finally happy.

She had to make herself forget the fact that she had tried to smother her son.

**. . .**

_"Trust is a difficult thing. Whether it's finding the right people to trust or trusting the right people will do the wrong thing. But trusting your heart is the riskiest thing of all. In the end, the only person we can truly trust is ourself." - Emily Thorne_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Thanks so much for reading and all your comments.


	7. VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Voight hadn't had rescued Erin from the streets, her life wouldn't have gotten any better. He wouldn't have helped her become the strong and independent woman she was meant to be. She wouldn't have met Detective Jay Halstead and fall in love with him the way she was meant to. She would've been broken and lost
> 
> A Chicago P.D. Inspired FanFiction.
> 
> Lindsay/Halstead  
> #Linstead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story, in my head, “Annie” is portrayed by Christina Ricci.  
> Enjoy.

**Chapter VII**

_9:01pm_

_Annie pulled up outside of her house at Cicero on a Thursday night. She was giddy as she walked up her porch, smiling from ear to ear in searched for her keys._

_Happiness and excitement was bursting out of her petit self. She just wanted the entire neighbourhood to know that she's ecstatic._

_She had just gotten back from Indiana after visiting her parents and was about to surprise her husband with her presence by coming back a day-ish early._

_That's right! She's the surprise._

_"Honey! I'm-"_

_Her jolly bluster and smile quickly died down at the sight of the coffee table._

_Two wine glasses sat innocently and one just had to have a lipstick stain on it._

_It was red, something she didn't wear._

_"Oh no you didn't..."_

_It wasn't much of a sadness or betrayal that she was feeling right now, it was rage. Pure rage. Maybe that emotion - the tears, the hurt - would come at a later stage. All she wanted to do was to rip her husband's and that skank's head right out of their worthless bodies._

_A loud squeaky echo resonated around the house and she just knew what that was and where they had to be._

_"You bastard!!" she screamed and raced to their bedroom. Taking the steps to their room two at a time._

_Their bedroom!_

_How could he?!_

_She should've listened to her father to not marry a garbage like him. He was right, her dad's always right but she didn't want to believe it listen to him since Richard was her high school sweetheart._

_She loves him. She even gave up a scholarship to Berkeley for him, to marry him._

_She never should've married him._

_She should've gone to California and pursue her bachelor in journalism._

_He's a scumbag who has been living off of her since day one. But she was too in love to see that or even care. She could support the both of them and she was okay with that._

_She had enabled him and this behaviour for too long._

_"You fucking bastard!" she screamed as she burst into the room. A .22 calibre revolver in her hand, aiming at the both of them._

_The whore that was riding her husband shirked and quickly jumped off of him and tried to cover herself up under the sheets._

_"You two, out!"_

_She quickly complied, scrambling, in search for clothes. "I have a son! Please don't shoot!"_

_"You too, Richard!"_

_But he just laid there in complete and utter shock. "You, you're home early, sweetheart."_

_"I knew it!" she said, waving the gun at them. "I knew it you, lying cheating bastard! I fucking knew it!! You just couldn't keep it in your pants, could you?! Even for a day and a half!! You just had to go scavenging for hookers like her!!"_

_"Darling-"_

_"Shut it! Shut it! Now give me one good reason why I shouldn't pull the trigger on both of you!!"_

_The skank was now working to pull up her itty bitty skirt up her thighs and Annie can't help but stare at her perfectly toned legs._

_She's jealous of her. She's jealous of this whore because she has a body to die for while hers was of a teenage boy._

_9:06pm_

_"I have baby. He-he's just 4 weeks old. Please. I'll go. I'll just go and you won't see me again. Ok?" she begged._

_Taking a good look at her terrified expression, she broke into a hysteric laughter. Life just had to do this to her, she can't kill her, she couldn't kill her even if she wanted to, and leave her son an orphan._

_And on that thought, no one would've thought she have had a baby merely four weeks prior. No flabs, no stretch marks, except for what she can now conclude to be a healing scar from her c-section._

_This chick really wasn't lying. She did have a baby and her reasoning was a convincing one._

_"Get out!"_

_She bundled up the rest of her things and sprinted to the door._

_"Wait! Did my dear husband paid for what you're worth?" she spat and stared into her horrified forest green eyes._

_"Of course he didn't. How much??"_

_That was the begin of their unconventional friendship._

* * *

_6:52pm_

The apartment was awfully silent when she walked in. Even the entire building wasn't in any utterance tonight. It was a peace that was never really heard of in the Lindsay household which in all honesty was certainly now terribly terrifying.

As scheduled and as she had observed, Noah ought to be screaming on top of his little lungs to bespoke the entire inhibitors in the building that he's ready for bed and maybe even to the point of aggravating his asthma in the process.

But that wasn't the case tonight.

"Erin?"

She feared that she had gone away to work and work was no where she should be right now. She ought to stay at home and recuperate, not give lap dances or twirl around a pole.

"Erin, Noah! Guys, I'm home!" Annie tossed her set of keys onto the coffee table and began to slowly maneuver across the tornado of a mess that Erin calls home. Picking up Noah's story books and toys and anything that was out of place as she goes.

When Erin had called her two nights ago to pick her up a few blocks from the club she worked at, she absolutely wasn't expecting to see her face all messed up.

She had insisted that she didn't need to go down to the ER to get checked when Annie tried to persuade her that she did.

She had insisted that it was just a client who had gotten too rough with her, that she was alright, that it came with the job.

So, she decided not push her on that topic but as her best friend, she knows there was something she wasn't telling her.

_7:01pm_

"Seriously! God! What the fuck's wrong with her! Drinking with Noah around?" she blustered under her breath when she saw the almost empty Smirnoff bottle sitting oh-so innocently on the kitchen counter, and hurried to vacate the rest of the content down the kitchen sink before tossing it into the trash. 

She loves Erin but sometimes, no, most of the time, she can really be a pain in the ass with her stubbornness. She's such a hardhead that she doesn't think before she act.

_She's a doer._

She doesn't think.

She just does.

Shaking her head in disappointment, apparently Erin has her hiding spots. Now, she's going to make it her life's mission to find them all.

That's what addict does, they hide.

"Erin!"

She's going to give her a piece of her mind and one hell of a long lecture.

"Erin!"

The door to the bedroom was ajar, so she quickly marched towards it and pushed it open to see the sheer horror of Noah in the process of sticking his finger into an electrical outlet.

_7:05pm_

"OH MY GOD! NOAH! NO!" she screamed and ran towards the clueless infant like a headless banshee.

The shout, itself, startled Noah indefinitely, who had jumped and almost fallen backwards. She can see the absolute fright in his light blue eyes as they widen like saucers.

"No, no, no, no, no, Noah Kristoff Lindsay! No!" she picked him off the ground and not a millisecond later, she watched in slow motion as his lower lip began to quiver, his eyes scrunched shut and his face contorted into a cry. The tears that she had been waiting for tonight was finally here.

"Bad Noah." she said and lightly smacked his hands in the hopes of teaching him a lesson. "Bad. No."

"We don't stick our fingers in there, mister." she pointed to the outlet and he again let out another piercing loud cry when she hit his hands.

Knowing that the human body is an excellent conductor for electricity, she thank God for allowing her to get there just in time before anything severe were to happen.

Since electricity aims for quick and simple path to the ground and the fact that about 70 percent of a human body is made up of water, it's extremely easy for electricity to course through the body in a matter of seconds.

_Where the hell is she?_

_How can she leave an eleven month old infant all alone at home and unattended?_

She could've at least called if she had left.

"Jesus, Noah. You scared me." Annie gently cradled him close to her chest and rocked him and whispered sweet coos to make him stop crying.

"Where's your ma, huh?" she sighed as she rocked the ever crying child, "I wish you could just talk already."

_7:18pm_

It's wasn't until a faint sound coming from the bathroom right across caught her attention that she froze.

"Don't tell me your ma's in there, lil No-No."

"Erin?" she hurried to knock on the bathroom door and glanced briefly at the fussing baby before pressing her ear to the flimsy door.

When she heard nothing but groaning, she knew something wasn't right.

_God! Don't let her be doing some bullshit in there!_

"Erin, I'm coming in." she said, concerned and twisted the knob, thankful for it to be unlocked.

 _Chaos_.

That was the only word that could describe whatever she was witnessing.

_Pure chaos._

Cursing at what she had always dreaded to see, not only was she rendered speechless, Noah was too since he had now decided to stop fussing and just stare at his mother.

"Erin, what the..?!" her nose crinkled in distaste at the foul odour of bile, mixed in with what had to be burnt tin foil, plastic and chemicals.

She was painfully on her knees by a puddle of her own hurl, clutching tightly onto her stomach as she continued to violently heave onto the floor. Annie can only imagine the agony she's in right now, considering the fact that she has some pretty nasty bruised, possibly cracked, ribs.

"Oh shit. What did you do?!"

She have had a feeling that Erin was out doing what she knows best to get a fix and was high with a strange somewhere but this, she wasn't expecting for her to be shooting dope with her son just next door.

"Erin! Hey! Look at me. What did you take?" she questioned, kneeling in front of her shivering friend after putting Noah into his crib in the bedroom next door.

"What'd you take?"

She didn't, she couldn't say anything else but verbalise incoherent slurs of incantations through all the fluids.

"What'd you take?"

Although she doesn't know the first thing about illicit drugs, all she knows was that cocaine, which have always been Erin's choice of poison since it gave her 'energy' as she called it, wouldn't make one this sick.

She was scared, concerned too and she absolutely didn't know what to do.

"I'm calling an ambulance." she was about to stand up to get her phone but was roughly yanked back down by the arm and was faced with her agitated demeanour.

_7:29pm_

"No! _He's_ gonna take Noah! The police are gonna take Noah away from me!"

_Who?_

Looking at the bloody and disgusting paraphernalia laying around and the state that she's currently in, police taking Noah away from her should be the least of her worries. She ought to be focusing on getting clean. Noah would be much safer without her and tonight couldn't have been more of an example.

"Ok." she decided otherwise, she knows how difficult it would be for both Erin and Noah. She would be devastated. She know Erin wouldn't be able to handle it. "But you first have to tell me what you took."

Annie watched as Erin's glazed and bloodshot eyes blinked up at her, beads of sweat pouring down her face, "I don't know...I bought it off some guy at the club the other day...It could be H too. I don't know. He said I'd be so high that I'd feel like I was flying."

And she did, for a while she did felt as though she was high up in the sky and soaring through the fluffy clouds. But now, not so much.

Right now, she felt like her chest was running away from her body.

She doesn't get how Erin cheats death every single time. A combination of cocaine, heroin and not to mention alcohol is a lethal combination.

"You don't know what fucking crap you shot into your vein!"

 _She promised_.

She had promised she'd stop this nonsense about a gazillion times and she doesn't know why she even believed her every time she makes such promises.

She should've known to never trust a word that comes out of a junkie's mouth.

"I said I don't, didn't I!" Erin spat, fanning herself with her hands since it was just so unbearably hot.

"God! God! God!" Annie ran her fingers through her hair, tying it up with an elastic hair band and paced back and forth around the small bathroom.

She's so mad at Erin. She's so mad at her right now.

_How could she do this? To her son?_

Everything should be about that little boy, every aspect of her life should be to better his, not about the nightlife and definitely not scoring her next fix.

_She's furious._

But mostly, she's mad at herself for choosing to ignore the deeming signs. From the clear physical signs - track marks, flu-like symptom, hyperactivity - to the little details, she've known all this time but didn't want it to be true.

"I'm so mad at you right now."

Annie doesn't know why she keeps putting up with Erin's destructive behaviour. She should've just left months ago when she first found out about her drug use, then she wouldn't be involved in something so complicated and illegal and she wouldn't have to feel like throwing up every morning because of the intolerable tension that is worrying sick about Erin.

She doesn't really have any law binding commitment or obligation to Erin but may be it has to do with the fact that she's her best friend and in the year they've gotten to know one another, she've grown to love her. _A lot_. Sometimes she thinks she loves her a lot more than she should. A lot more than Erin could reciprocate.

And every night she walks out of that door, she's in fear for her since she's literally playing Russian roulette with her life.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" she hid the tears that fell down her cheeks, only realising then that her hands were shaking.

Though she understands that she has had a troubled upbringing, she don't quite understand one's choice to slowly bungle their insides when they clearly know it's a death wish.

_That's exactly what she's doing._

"I don't know what to do with you, Erin. I can't..."

She had even tried to get her a job with her at the hospital as a nurse assistant but that opportunity was shot down because of her record. She even went as far as to suggest that she'd support the three of them but Erin was right; _who was she kidding?_

She makes just enough to support one person and that was herself. Besides Erin has made it very clear on numerous occasions that she'd like to make her own money and provide for her and her son all by herself and she'd make that possible even if it means selling her body. Either way she has way too many debts that needs to be paid back to her stepfather and mother.

Annie's year worth of pay cheque wouldn't cover her liabilities for another five years or more.

"I-I I'm all out...I need your help, Annie..."

Erin must be so utterly desperate to be asking her to get her 'juice'. She must be so out of her mind to even think that she would do such a thing.

"You're crazy if you think for one second that I'd go shake hands with your drug dealer...Get up!" she ordered and reached down to pull her to her feet. Holding her steady by the shoulders when she almost fell back down when her knees gave way.

"Wh-where we going?"

"You...are going cold turkey."

"What?" she yanked herself out of Annie's grasp, "No! No, I'm not!" she stammered, trying to focus on her friend's face who seemed to be spinning in circles.

"Yes. You. Are." she grabbed ahold of Erin once again and pulled her arms to her back, pushing her across the tiles, almost skidding on the vomit, as she continued to jerk and thrash along the way.

"Ow! Ow! Annie! Annie! You're hurting me! My ribs!"

For someone who was almost beaten to a pulp, she still has quite the strength to resist.

"You have my word! I'll stop but I just need it one last time!! Just once, Annie!! Please!!"

_She's not falling for that act again._

"Listen to me, Erin." she stopped to spin her around so she was facing her, "Listen to me, you..." she begged, cupping her soaked cheeks, "One way or the other, you're done. The fun, it's all over. Today...now, you have three options. Option one; I can try to help. Ask the nurses at the hospital what to do and stuff. Option two; you check into a rehab centre and not the one week, two weeks, three weeks kind, you're fucking staying until they say you can leave. Or option three; _I_ walk out that door. You're never gonna see me again...and you're free to do whatever you want with your life...and in the process fuck up Noah's."

"Annie...you can't..."

Shaking her head, she was adamant to not make a decision. Her addiction - something that she've always known - or her family. She can't make that choice. All three options sounded so scary and so horrible, especially the third one. She can't lose her best friend and she doesn't want to ruin her son's life like her mother did hers.

"It's your choice to make, not mine. But if I were you, I'd think about that beautiful little boy across the hall...All he wants is his mother happy and healthy. He doesn't want anything else but you. Can't you see that?"

"I promise I'll stop, Annie. I'm begging you, don't do this. I swear this'll be the last."

She's not falling for that lie again.

 _Junkie_.

Annie nodded. That was really all she needed to hear. Although she was disappointed, there wasn't much she could do when a person turns down help that was given out of love. Erin have made her decision and she chose her ol' friend, her addiction.

"Goodbye, Erin." she smiled sadly at her before heading for the door.

It was hard for her to even think about walking out of Erin's life, let alone say it but she did and she's staying true to it.

_She's leaving forever._

"Annie, no. Don't leave! Wait!"

It was the crash, the low, the down that had finally caught up to her and slapped her right across the face with a tonne of bricks.

The decision, she had made a wrong one. She needs Annie like a human needs a heart to live.

"I choose you." she said and quickly as her body prevailed got into the freezing cold shower. "See, I choose you. Please stay. You and Noah are all I have." she chattered through the cold.

Turning around, she watched as the water began to wash away at her beautiful friend, cleansing her. It was the start of a new beginning.

The water smoothed away her matted, vomit laced hair, cleared all the blood, sweat and tears off her face as a sense of calm washed over her.

"Please stay, Annie." she couldn't fight the tears anymore as they slid down her hollow cheeks and she sank to the tiled floor. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them, sobbing her heart out into her knees.

"I choose you and Noah."

During this whole binge she hadn't, not once, even thought of the ramifications of her actions and how it could have a detrimental effect on her child.

"I'm a horrible mother, Annie. I just wanna be good. I try...but I...just can't..."

Motherhood definitely isn't easy. Nothing can prepare a mother for motherhood. Not even her own mother can train her to be a better mom. Each mother goes through her own set of personal experiences. Each mother learns the rope while on the job, never before. And through those experiences and mishaps, learn to better themselves.

"I give him everything...He has everything a child needs - food, clothes, toys, shoes, books, his medicine. Huh! His asthma, do you know how much that cost a month?"

Asthma is expensive and she was in total oblivion to the cost up until they handed her the medical slip, his prescription and told her that she had to buy his medicine on a monthly basis and that he might need them for the rest of his life.

She didn't really thought how much it would cost her annually and for years to come until they got home that day and actually did the calculations.

And she's still not doing a good job as a mother.

She stared as Erin cried into her hands. She was shaking violently and Annie knew she had to be in icicles by now. "You're not a horrible mom, ok. C'mon." she quickly turned the shower off and grabbed a towel off the rack, glancing out the door briefly to look at Noah who now had his arms and little legs waving in the air, giggling.

"Erin." she said, kneeling down and wrapped the towel around her. The sweatshirt she wore was soaking wet and her skin was like a corpse. "You're not a horrible mother, ok? You're just a mother. You're trying your hardest."

Nodding, "Yes, I am."

No ones else loves or cares for her, not even her own mother. She's the only one who would give her what she needs - love.

"Erin...Don't do it for me or for Noah. Do it for yourself. You have to have the want and the will and all the right reasons to actually stay clean."

"I've tried." Erin said looking away from the tile wall and over at Annie. "I've tried so hard but I can't."

Sighing, she don't get it. She could just try harder. Simple as that. "Life is so precious and you're throwing away yours for...for what? A moment of false happiness. It doesn't last forever and it makes you feel like shit at the end. So why keep doing it?" she sat on the edge of the shower and reached over to brush the wet strands of hair off of her forehead.

"It's not that I want to keep doing it, Annie, I have to..."

The worse part of using is using. It isn't even a great feeling.

"When you do coke, it just makes you want to do more...for me at least...You just keep doing more and more because you don't want to come down...Coming down from coke is hell...You will spend every penny you have on coke because the minute you start coming down, your brain goes mush. You don't care about anything else or want anything else but coke."

Cocaine is not a means to any end except more cocaine.

Her words, her explanation, she've articulated it so eloquently; she's a addict.

"And do you think that's a good way to live? Why don't you value your life?"

Shrugging, she don't know. She haven't in a very long time. It wasn't like she had any reason to. No one showed her the good in the world or in themselves.

_She has no value._

Not since she was fourteen. Not since all the physical, sexual and verbal abuse. Not since she was raped night after night by her stepfather. Not since she had thought she fell in love with him. Not since she began to believe that all she was really worth was for her body and sex. Hence, making a career for herself with the one thing she knows she's good for.

"You have what a lot of women can't and would kill to have and that's to be a mother. You're so lucky, sweetie. Noah, he's your miracle, remember? You told me he saved you. Remember you said that?"

She nodded.

_He had._

Noah saved her but he's always the one who have been driving her back to her old ways.

She just wasn't expecting for him to be so difficult.

"I know you're having a hard time cuz you're doing this all by yourself and I know you just want a break but there's no turning back. Once you have a baby, there's no escaping. It's a done deal. You've got Noah. He's yours whether you like it or not, whether you're prepared for this phase of your life or not, whether you enjoy motherhood or not, you are going to be a mother for the rest of your life. Period."

And she couldn't begin to understand her, being responsible for another life, since she's not in her shoes, she's not a mother. But she've begun to understand.

"He's gonna take Noah away from me."

_Who?_

_Noah's dad?_

She've never seen him and Erin had never talked about him. The last and only time she asked her about him, she simply shrugged it off and quickly changed the subject.

All this time, she had always thought that Erin didn't even know who Noah's father was. Considering her profession, she can't help but to conclude that for herself.

That explains this - her impulsiveness and recklessness. He, whoever he may be, must have paid her an unwanted visit and threaten to take Noah away.

_She freaked out._

"No, sweetie. He can't. You've been with Noah since day one. You're his mother." she explained.

"But-"

"Shh..." she pulled her into a hug, "The court won't do that."

_Of course they can._

She've heard stories just like this all the time at the hospital and with Erin's history - drugs, jail time, prostitution - they won't think twice in deeming her an unfit mother.

They could give Noah to his dad or the system. For all she knows, his dad could be as much of a mess as Erin.

They won't understand her like she does. Annie can look pass all her flaws and still see a beautiful woman. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter whether she's a good mother or not what matter is that she's there for her child - mentally and physically.

Erin nodded and looked into her friend's hazel eyes, "I'm sorry."

She doesn't know what she would've done without her.

_Annie's a true angel._

"C'mon, sweetie, let's get you out of these clothes." she helped pull her to her feet and out of the shower as she shivered like a leaf. Leaving for a split second to grab her a change of clothes from the closet.

When she returned she paused at the doorway for a second or two to admire her friend. Though it was an unbearable sight as she was hunched over, her arms wrapped around her frail body. She can practically hear her grinding and chattering her teeth.

_She knows she can never be hers._

"Hey." she quickly walked over to her and placed the clean set of clothes on the rack, "Here. Let's get you dressed and into bed. K?"

Reaching down, she helped Erin get out of the soaked clothes and every now and then she would moan at the pain in her torso.

"Sorry, sweetie. We're almost done."

It sickens her that anyone would hurt a harmless woman like her. She wants to hurt the guy that hurt Erin but that's a laughable thought since she, herself, wasn't any bigger. Even the both of them combined wouldn't do them any justice.

"Let's go to bed. You must be exhausted." she wrapped an arm around her trembling shoulders. Whatever she took was certainly now wearing off.

Slowly with each careful step she groaned and cried, she was scared to leave her 'friend'.

Breaking down even further when she saw her baby looking innocently at her, his eyes catching hers as she etched closer.

"Could you..." she motioned for Annie to help get Noah out of his crib so she could hold him even if it's just for a while.

"Of course sweetie."

He was finally being a good boy, awake but not crying just laying happily while he sucked on his fingers. Maybe he was just waiting for his mom to sing him to sleep. "Look lil No-No. Look at your pretty pretty ma."

He reached out for her. 

Erin laughed but was quickly reminded not to when her aching ribs ignited in flames.

"My sweet sweet boy." Reaching out, she enveloped her little man in her arms and kissed his cheeks.

"I don't know if ma can do this. She's a failure. She've failed you a thousand times but...but she'll try again."

_8:05pm_

Managing to manoeuvre to her bed, she sat down, humming and rocking Noah slowly in her arms until he let out a little gurgling noise indicating that he's about to fall asleep.

Annie came back with a trash can and a jug of water in her hands, everything that she thinks Erin needs for the night.

"Annie, could you take him? I, I need to lie down."

She needed to close her eyes since they were weighing her down.

"Sure." she took the sleeping child in her arms and helped tuck Erin into bed, "Call me if you need anything, k?"

Mumbling, she just curled into a foetal position and closed her eyes. Annie silently stepped out of her bedroom, taking Noah with her.

It's going to be one hell of a long journey filed tears, screaming, cursing, restlessness and even more screaming. Not only was there one baby, she too will be acting like one. She's going to watch her like a hawk and not fall for any of her manipulation.

She looked at Noah in her arms, her heart broke into a billion pieces and the tears she've hid so well this entire night seized to exist.

_God! She's so pissed!_

She've fallen in love with her.

She definitely have and she hates herself for that.

* * *

_10:03pm_

Jay was sitting in his car parked outside her apartment. It was place he had been in not too long ago.

_Four hours ago to be exact._

After the ambush they had pinged upon Erin, they headed back to the station where they reported her statement to their Sergeant who was nonetheless disappointed since they were practically back with nothing.

He dunked his head against the steering wheel and let out a sigh. He've been sitting in his car for the past hour, gaining the courage to go back up there and do the right thing and that was to apologise. But he knows she wouldn't want to talk to him let alone see him.

So here he was in a dilemma of to go or not to go.

Adam said that he shouldn't since it wasn't like it was obligatory to do so. But to apologise is the ethical and moral thing to do.

He didn't mean to threaten her like that, to take her son away from her, it just sort of vomited out of his mouth.

Sometime, _most of the tim_ e, he doesn't think before he speaks and that was his weakness.

_10:49pm_

Though it was quite late already, almost eleven, he just needed to express his sincerest apology.

_He had to._

He wouldn't be able to stop thinking about her and in turn that would loop into images of her bruises and her limp and the thought that a man would do such a thing to a woman, maybe the mother of his child, would fire the fuel inside of him. Then he won't be able to contain his anger.

With a deep breath, he knocked on the flimsy door.

_Maybe she's asleep._

He'll just try in the morning.

_Maybe she looked through the peephole and didn't want to open the door._

He couldn't blame her for that.

But just as he was about to walk away, the door flung open.

"Yea?"

Awkwardly with his mouth hanging open and as he scratched his head, he looked back at the number on the door.

_4D_

This is her apartment but this wasn't her.

_Maybe he got the wrong building._

Who stood in front of him was a beautiful petite brunette, even smaller than Erin, with huge hazel doe eyes. To him, she looked like a squirrel.

She too have been crying. Everyone in this apartment just seemed to be crying all the time.

"Ahh..."

"Block B. Apartment 4D, yea. What do you want?"

"Umm, sorry. Is Erin Lindsay here?" he took a step closer and shoved his hands into her pocket.

Looking into the apartment, it didn't look like a tornado had landed in there anymore. The place was void of all the racketeering it once presented itself.

 _Noah_.

A crib was right next to the couch and there laid the cute little boy who had been giving his mother a hard time. But this time he was asleep and had his thumb in his mouth.

That was the cutest thing he've seen in a long time. And that was coming from someone who have never been too fond of babies.

"She's asleep. You got a message or something?"

Shaking his head, "Yeah, umm, tell Erin I'm extremely sorry. Sincerely. Really sorry."

She frowned. She must not have the faintest idea of why he was apologising.

"Ok...You got a name, mister?"

"Halstead. Jay Halstead."

* * *

_"Destiny. To believe that a life is meant for a single purpose, one must also believe in a common fate. Father to daughter, brother to sister, mother to child. Blood ties can be as unyielding as they are eternal. But it is our bonds of choice that truly light the road we travel. Love versus hatred. Loyalty against betrayal. A person's true destiny can only be revealed at the end of his journey, and the story I have to tell is far from over."_

_\- Emily Thorne_


	8. VIII

**Chapter VIII**

_9:04am_

No one had ever told her how difficult it would be to watch your child get poked with needles. _Nobody._

Needles after needles. He had to get struck thrice. Two for the much needed vaccines and one for a blood draw. It was terrible. She swore he was the loudest baby and was certain that all the other mothers were cursing at her. But she couldn't care less about them because, just like their baby, hers was scared.

Even though this wasn't the first time that Noah got poked and prodded and even though this wasn't the first time she watched him get poked and prodded, it still felt like the first. Like when he was first born on that early March morning. He was on a ventilator and covered in tubes and plasters and was given shots of steroids for his lungs to develop. All she felt then was guilt. She was at fault. It was her doing that he came three months too early. If only she hadn't listened to her mother - _till this day, she hasn't got a clue why she allows Bunny to get to her_ \- to work that night, he wouldn't have been here at twenty seven weeks, weighing a mere two pounds.

She was working that night because Bunny got her clients who has a thing for pregnant women, much like herself, and were willing to pay her a thousand dollars. But ultimately, it was her fault for allowing Bunny to talk her into it in the first place.

No one had ever told her the agony she has to endure at watching the seething process while being absolutely helpless in it all. _Nobody._

It's thin and relatively small and surely wouldn't feel anything to her - a mastered associate in the art of poking - but Noah, he's just a baby, an infant. It has to be painful and terrifying for him. Even now, at just the thought of a needle going through his unmarred skin brought tears to her eyes.

No one had ever told her that the more or less two minute procedure, which were just mainly tears, would be much more traumatic for her. _Nobody._

Because once it was over and once Noah held out both of his small hands, whimpering for her, and once she gathered him into her arms, feeling a powerful rush of protectiveness - motherhood is instinct for the most part - he was fine while she was left to face the wrath of reality and was speechless as she walked out of the clinic.

_Difficult._

She've had a difficult morning to say the least.

_9:32am_

Sighing, it's barely even halfway through the day and she's already spent. She glanced down at Noah who was now fluttering his eyes close as he sucked on a pacifier.

Thank goodness he was been given a clean bill of health and she was relieved when Dr. Montgomery said that his asthma hadn't progressed. Truth be told, she was actually leaning more towards the fact that it had because lately, he's been having quite the trouble breathing.

He was given a shot to each leg which seriously pissed him off and his tiny chest still heaved with the occasional sob.

This appointment wasn't like the others though. He didn't cry from the very beginning like he always would when they step foot into the cold clinic. It was like he knew where they were, he could sense it, and was over screaming about it, and she most definitely wasn't complaining about that. He also didn't cry when she had to take his clothes off and lay him on the cold scale to get weighed and measured.

And in this particular visit, his cries were somewhat different. Not a needy cry or a cry of pain but anger instead.

_He was angry at her._

Her baby was angry at her. _Angry_. She still can't get over that fact.

She remembered his big pale blue eyes looking straight into her when he realised he was about to get stabbed with a needle, bursting into tears then.

The look he was giving her, she had deciphered the message, feeling guilty.

_Why are you letting this happen to me again?_

She had held his tiny flailing arms to his side like the doctor had instructed and had put a pacifier into his mouth but he spat it out and continued wailing.

"I'm sorry, Noah, ok. You'll feel better in 3, 2 -" and when his _familiar_ blue eyes widen - just as shocked as she was that the doctor didn't follow through the countdown - and not a millisecond later that he screamed even louder, she was relieved when they could finally leave.

"I'm sorry baby. But mommy's only doing what's best for you." she whispered into his shampooed hair, holding him tighter around the sling as she got off the bus.

One might think, with her history, that she ought to have no issue with needles and she normally doesn't. She has absolute no problems watching _other_ people get struck or even poke at herself and she have numerous times, but she just can't stand it when it's her son.

_9:57am_

Two and a half weeks.

She've been drug and alcohol free for over two weeks now and she just hopes and prays that she doesn't fall back to old ways because she certainly has in the past.

Two and a half weeks may be the longest she's sober.

_Well, other than the seven months minus the four months she didn't know she was pregnant and the three months after Noah was born, making that six months, two and a half weeks may very well be the longest she've ever stayed clean since she started at age sixteen._

Two and a half weeks may seem nothing for some people but this two and a half weeks felt like an eternity. Time was passing much slower than she's normally used to and the first week of detox was torturous. She had felt like a bus had ran over her ten times. Then, was pushed off a cliff, surviving the aftermath.

_It was torturous._

But in the end, it all worked out for the better because now, she's really clean. She feels clean too. Just like Annie, she ought to treat her body like a temple.

_Thank you, Annie!_

She doesn't know what she'd do without her Annie. She's literally a lifesaver and Erin has always taken her for granted, but not anymore since she knows she's godsend. Sticking by her side when she knows others would have run a very long time ago.

It sometimes boggles her as to Annie's true intentions. It's not that she doesn't trust her or anything, in fact, she trusts her with her life, it's more like _why is she helping her?_

They aren't friends for years. They just met ten months ago.

_Why is she still sticking around?_

_Why is she continuing to keep up with her bullshit?_

She never really had a friend. Annie's her first.

Pushing the doors to the lobby at her building, she turned left for the ammonia reeking stairwell since the crappy elevator was still crappy because their crappy landlord isn't one to spend a dime in this building.

Speaking of dimes, she really has to go back to work. She can't keep allowing Annie to pay her bills. Bunny had called her the other day, asking if she was well enough to start working again. It was probably Misha putting her to the task because in reality Bunny wouldn't give a damn. She didn't give a damn that Misha had almost killed her. _Again_.

She hates him.

 _No, she doesn't._ She knows she doesn't.

Even with what he had done to her for years and years and she knows she should hate him and she did for a long time, but somehow, at the end of the day and considering their past and no matter how many times she insisted she hates the man, she can't deny what's really in her heart.

_Is that sick of her?_

Probably.

Obviously she said no to her mother because her ribs were still aching and was still in no shape to twirl around a pole. Besides Misha terrifies her - he can hurt her whenever he pleases - she ought to mentally prepare herself before going back to Double Dzz.

He had hurt her because he thought she was talking to the cops about his _business_ , which she hadn't. And wouldn't. And couldn't do that to him.

_Does he even care about her like she cares about him?_

All she ever wanted was a dad. A father's love and she found it in the wrong place and by the wrong person.

_10:11am_

Right now, she had her hands on her knees, panting at the landing on her floor. She's already winded by just climbing up four stories and don't think she likes doing all this, with bad ribs and an infant strapped to her chest. She've never been one for a workout.

_Not the traditional way that is._

She've never been the healthiest of people. _Definitely_ _never_. As a child the only vegetables she had ever had were when they were doused in cheese. _Broccoli and cheese was her utmost favourite._ And when they were dehydrated in a bag of Ramen. And especially not now when her diet had only been consisting of cigarettes, vodka, sodas, drugs and the only solid that she can consume was toast.

_A recipe for death._

She didn't even realise how spindly and small she looked until her third day of detox when she almost sneaked out of her apartment to go get a fix. And Annie had shoved a mirror to her face instead.

_Grey, ageing skin._

_Dark circles._

_Sullen cheeks._

_Twig like arms and legs._

In other words, she looked sickly. Someone who's way older than their years. Someone who isn't a twenty four year old.

_How can she be Double Dzz number one stripper, looking so ugly?_

_How can men enjoy sleeping with a bag of bones?_

Squinting and straining her eyes under the dim twinkling fluorescent lights, she saw as people by her door.

_Apt 4D._

Her heart slowed in her chest, faint, and Noah began squirming as she wearily approached her door, towards the end of the hall.

She'd recognise that profile anywhere.

_Him._

She hadn't seen him since the day he threatened her and she knows for a fact that he've been stopping by almost everyday since. _Apologising_. Annie has had it with him, annoyed.

"Excuse me!" she shouted in a whisper, cupping Noah's head closer to her chest, rocking him gently so he'd stop fidgeting. Feeling their rhythms match as she too lulled herself.

_Calm._

She has to be.

He turned around at her voice and she saw a shadowy recognition as his brows knitted at her and lips gaped, seemingly wanting to say something.

_Was he surprised to see her?_

_What does he expect?_

This is her building.

She lives here.

"Excuse me, detective. What the hell are you doing at my door?" she said in the lowest possible of voice, not wanting to wake her sleeping baby. She peered to the side to see the landlord looking anything but happy. "What the hell is he doing here? What did tell him?" she accused.

_Ugh!_

He's here to ruin her life. _Again_. He's getting the landlord involved for god knows what. He's getting her kicked out.

_Why else would the landlord be here?_

_That smile_ \- a smile that she would have reciprocated if she wasn't so mad at him, a smile that she would have returned if she didn't loathe him so much, a smile that would have warmed her insides if he hadn't already shown her his true intentions - broke out on his chiselled features and she continued to glare tiredly at him, looking anything but calm.

"Good morning to you too, Miss Lindsay." he whispered, glancing down at Noah, "The landlord has something to say to you. Go on, Mr. Ramirez, tell the _pretty lady_ what you're here for."

_Pretty lady?_

_Where'd he get the permission to call her that?_

"I'm here to fix your heater." he said, bored, like he really doesn't want to be here, let alone say that.

"For _free_." he quickly added when the detective gave him a nudge.

_Free._

Now that's unheard of, especially when the _F-word_ came out of the landlord's mouth.

_Free._

This detective had either promised him something or had threatened him with something. She wasn't too sure but was kind of certain it was the latter since he looks pissed.

Jay's now looking directly at her.

"I don't need your help, detective." she immediately said and a look of hurt and surprise crossed him face.

_10:23am_

Right now, at this very second, it's the first time she noticed how blue his eyes are. It's not Noah's shade of blue, it's darker, almost as comparable to the ocean.

The landlord chuckled, "Ok, so, _pretty_ _lady_ , doesn't need my help. So, I guess my work's done here." He was about to walk away but Jay pulled him right back, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, "Not so fast, Mr. Ramirez." he said before redirecting his attention back to her.

_Erin._

_Where should he start?_

Let's with the fact that she looks better. So much better.

She also looks different.

Very very different from when he last saw her. And a very very good different he must say and a smile crept up on his face again.

Why is he smiling?

The bruises on her face have almost faded but an outline around her eye can still be seen. _Faint_. But it's still there. _Healing_. And he also knows, from the way she's hunched over, her ribs still hurt.

She looks clearer, her eyes aren't glazed anymore and most of all, she doesn't look so miserable.

Last he saw her, she was pretty much a wreck, a walking sack of misery. Someone had beaten her so badly, she looked terrified and was in tremendous pain. And so did her son with his constant crying, like he can sense his mother's agony, but now he's fast asleep.

"C'mon, Erin." he took a step forward, reaching out to touch her shoulders but she flinched when he raised his hands.

She must still be terrified by whomever who'd tormented her.

She doesn't know why she did that.

Staring, shocked, he apologised, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to." and quickly dropped his arms to his side. "Just Erin, accept this, ok. Plea-"

Squaring her shoulders and shaking her head, "Leave me alone, Jay." She remembered his name. Attempting to push past him to her flimsy door, "I said I don't need your help."

"You didn't, that _little_ _friend_ of yours did."

She bit her lower lip, suppressing the urge to smile when he mocked Annie's height, holding his hand up to his waist.

_Her dimples._

She has the most magnificent smile he's ever seen.

Pursing her lips, Annie wouldn't be pleased at the nickname he's given her.

_Little friend._

Smoothing her son's curls that matches hers, she sighed, giving in to his request. She should anyway. They've all been catching colds since the beginning of winter. And she doesn't want Noah getting sick anymore.

"Fine."

* * *

8:50pm

_That small, fierce and feisty woman from yesterday opened the door again._

Where's Erin?

How come she doesn't open her own door?

_And he's now, just like yesterday, face- to-face with her big hazel brown eyes._

_It almost felt like déjà vu, like his encounter with her yesterday, but the only difference this time was that a crying Noah was attached to her hip._

_Teary eyes, she sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand._

_She's sick, he noted._

_Of course she is. It like Siberia in there. He doesn't know how they do it, live in there since he, himself, cannot live without his heater._

_One time, his heater malfunctioned in the middle of winter, and immediately after realising, he checked himself into a hotel until the heater was fixed._

Well, no wonder this little friend is wearing a scarf.

But why isn't anyone complaining to the landlord?

_Maybe they have and he'd not listening._

_Maybe all he needs is just a little persuasion._

Wait, who's this little friend anyway?

_Her sister._

_Her friend._

_Her neighbour._

8:52pm

_"Yea? You gonna say something or continue gawking at me?" she said hastily. Her voice nasally._

_"Umm, I don't know if you-"_

_"Yeah. Yeah. I know who you are, Mister." she waved him off, "Erin's still sleeping. I don't know if you can't tell but we're coming down with the flu. I'll give her the message once she's awake."_

_But it's been almost twenty four hours since he had stopped by, she can't possibly still be sleeping._

_He opened his mouth to say something but as he was about to, he was cut off by her childlike voice. "Don't worry. I remember. You're extremely sorry. Sincerely. Really sorry. I got it."_

His exact words.

_"Thank you." he nodded, glancing at the wailing toddler who's now arching his back and pulling at her hair for attention._

_"Noah, stop!" she yelped in pain, holding his wrist to stop him before pulling his tiny fists out of her hair._

_Standing there, he's not quite sure what to do._

The baby.

_He's adorable and beautiful and all. He looks just like his mother, except for the eyes. He most obviously got them from his father._

Distinctive and light.

_But the only problem he's got is the fact that he's one a clingy baby._

_He and whiny babies definitely don't ever go hand-in-hand. He's now more or less doing the same thing he did to his mother yesterday._

_He's not having any children any time soon._

_They're small and cute but they're expensive and cause so much stress and problems._

_He's already got enough of those as there is._

_"Umm, ok then. I hope you're feeling better real soon." he mumbled._

_"Wait!" she called out as he turned around. Her big cartoonish eyes narrowed at him, "How do you know Erin anyway ?"_

How does he know Erin?

_He's a detective investigating the murder she witnessed. But he knows how squeamish people are at the word 'police', especially in this neighbourhood, so he refrained from using that term._

_"We're...friends."_

_He hopes they'll one day be._

8:48pm

_On his fourth and last visit, her small stature came to view once again, opening the door with an exasperated huff. Rolling her eyes, she swung the door wide enough for him to look inside the neatly presented home._

_This time, no one's crying and he sighed in relief._

_Noah's now glued to the television by the foot of the couch, watching what he assumed were cartoons._

_The little friends kissed her teeth as she looked at him up and down; unimpressed. It was like she knew that he was coming, that it was him at the door._

_"What do you want now, Mister?" she said propping a hand on her tapered hip. "This is like the fourth time you stopped by. I already told Erin and she doesn't want to see you or talk to you or hear what you have to say, ok. I don't know what you did but if I were you I'd stop wasting my time."_

_Her words curdled in his stomach._

_What does he have to do to make up for his stupidity?_

_"Ok." he nodded. He got it. He understood. If he was Erin, he too would feel the same. After all, he really was a jerk for threatening to take her child away from her._

_"I get it." he said with a thin smile, "The last time you guys were sick so, I thought maybe you'd want some food...you know." he awkwardly held the bag he was holding out to her._

8:51pm

_The other time he stopped by there were crying and shouting and cursing. All on Erin's part. He can clearly hear her. It was her very distinctive raspy voice._

_The little friend was in a hurry and had practically shoved him out of the doorway, screaming at him to never come back._

You again?

Can't you take a hint?

_Maybe he shouldn't be so persistent anymore._

Wait, what's he actually doing?

_He can't move forward if Erin doesn't forgive him._

But why does he care?

_He shouldn't. She's just a case._

_And now, the little friend was doing something with her brows again, that made him fearful for what she's going to say next because her words, for the past visits, have all stung like venom._

_She may look innocent and quiet and cute with her big round eyes but she's loud and very very forthcoming._

_He had to learn that the hard way._

_Her words hurt like punches._

_"Thank you." she smiled for the first time in all their encounters and willing took the bag, "That's really kind of you...Jay."_

_He nodded. "It's no problem."_

_"Jay, can I ask you something?" she leaned on the door, tucking her brown hair behind her ear, crossing her arm._

_"Yea, sure."_

_But he doesn't really want to hear what she has to say._

_"Not to be rude or anything but don't you have a life? A girlfriend maybe?"_

_He just lightly shook his head, running a hand through the back of his head._

_Here it goes again with her venomous words._

_Truth be told, he ought to stop stopping by. He don't even know them or her._

_"If you don't, please go get yourself one, two, three, ten, I don't really care how many. I really don't. And you seem like a decent guy, nice looking too, so I don't see why there isn't a lady in your life to keep you busy...Erin's perfectly happy with me and Noah. So, just stop dropping by, ok. Goodbye, Jay." she said before closing the door._

_Something about what she said irked him._ Erin's perfectly happy with me... _There was a faint sense of animosity towards him. Her whole stance screamed hostility and bitterness._

_Like she was jealous._

* * *

_10:49am_

She doesn't know what had gotten into her, agreeing to coffee with him.

_Hey, umm, since Ramirez is going to be here for a while why don't we go get some coffee?_

With a hesitant stammer, she was reluctant at first. She don't even know the guy. But then again, she goes full out with strangers for a living. So, having an innocent coffee with this particular stranger wouldn't be too bad.

_Ok._

It's just coffee.

He seems decent enough to hang out with for a little while.

Tossing a few more of Noah's formula and diapers into the diaper bag, she told the landlord to lock the door when he's done. He sneakered, rudely waving her off. And Jay said something to him, something she couldn't quite make it.

A threat maybe since that's what he's excellent at.

He had taken her to a nice, cozy little café that she could, if she could afford the overpriced coffee, see herself going back to. In other words, she's never ever ever going back there.

The latte she had, the cheapest on the menu since she doesn't believe in paying twenty dollars for a cup of coffee, was good and the gigantic cranberry-lemon muffin had left her wanting more, though she had restrained herself enough to share it with Noah for later for when he's awake.

Thank goodness he's still sleeping. God only knows how cranky he gets when he's woken up. He'll most definitely create a scene if he were to wake up right now.

She loves her son but she hates it when he throws a fit anywhere and everywhere. He's a baby, that's what babies do. But people don't understand that. They give him and her nasty looks. It's like he always finds the utmost prime time to embarrass her. Like in a supermarket, in a restaurant, in the middle of a very packed bus. That might just have to be the worst experience she's ever had. He was so loud and disruptive that she had to alight and calm him down before getting on another bus.

She glanced at him from the sling, still asleep. If only he'll sleep through the night like this, it'll be an amazing gift.

All the shots from this morning must have been draining.

The crying had tired him out.

_11:10am_

They had wandered about a little bit and she was grateful when he had offered to carry the not-so-light diaper bag since it was really starting to strain her shoulders.

As they walked together, making small talk as they go, she can't help but wonder if people thought they were a couple.

Keeping her distance from him didn't even prove a point because not one but two passerby have nonchalantly praised them for ' _looking like a beautiful family'_ as they so eloquently phrased it.

_Aren't they beautiful, Joe!_

_How precious!_

_You two look like The Couple!_

She was mortified and from the expression he wore, he too was flabbergasted.

It was awkward to say the least.

_11:27pm_

They had really just made small talk. The bare minimum, really. After the awkwardness, her mind went blank. Besides she don't ever really make small talk like this. Especially not to her clients. Most of the time, if not every single time, she and her clients would go straight to business.

 _A routine_. She'd go in. They'd greet each other. He or she or both would voice out their preferences. An hour or so later, he or she or both would slap a bill or two onto the counter. Then, she'll leave. Sometimes never seeing them ever again.

_A routine._

But this, Jay, he's not her client. He's not some loser who'll pay her for sex. He's not someone with a weird fetish. He's just a _normal_ guy. A very normal person.

Normal.

He had just told her that he have been a detective for an Intelligence Unit - _she thinks that's what it's called_ \- for over a year now. And before that he worked Vice. And even before that he was in the Army Ranger. Speechless, she was intrigued and impressed, nonetheless. He's actually quite fascinating. _Awestruck_. Brave and strong to have fought for their country and she can very well admit that she's starting to hate him a little less now.

_Just a tiny bit less._

He would point things out here and there as they walked. Maybe to kill time and definitely to void all the silence and pauses in between.

A bakery that he said had really great bread.

A vegan restaurant that would make carnivores drool with jealousy.

A gym that had spin classes - but $32 a pop.

He had pointed down a street that he said had a comic book shop and he was friends with the owner.

They had even gone into a small bookshop that he had said was good. And recommended. She don't read - _no_ \- more like hadn't read a book since dropping out of high school. And of course she didn't advertise that flaw of hers to him. She doesn't want him thinking that she's stupid. In fact, she don't think she's all that stupid - but she's most definitely stupid for dropping out of high school - because she used to get 'A' in English and English Literature.

Those were her favourite subjects.

Browsing a bit and thinking of a gift for Noah's first birthday, she pulled out some picture books off the shelf, and scanned through the colourful pictures, knowing full well that Noah would love them, while Jay chatted with the clerk, who he seemed to know.

He was actually genuinely friendly; friendlier with people than she would've expected and not nearly as serious. Though he was awkward - probably because she sometimes wasn't making any eye contact and have been fidgeting with her hands - and some of the things that came out of his mouth ranged from what she thought was likely sarcastic, though she felt she was sometimes missing the reference, to downright quirky, where she again thought she was likely also missing the reference, she enjoyed his company.

For the first time in forever, she felt _normal_.

_12:06pm_

They eventually ended up in the park and now sat on the grass of the small ridge, looking at the river and watching dog-walkers and joggers go by along the boardwalk. It's a Sunday where families and friends go out to enjoy their day and it seems like that's what they're doing.

Noah had finally woken up and had run around for a little while.

Jay had played with him - holding out his hands to encourage him to get to him and snipping him around when he did. Noah thought it was hilarious and would crawl after him - reaching out to tag Jay's hand and then get scooped into the air.

She wasn't used to other people playing or interacting with her son. It's always just the both of them and Annie. And in fact, Noah has purely been around oestrogen. No males since he was born. Other than Misha once or twice for a bare two minutes but that doesn't count.

Noah seemed to be enjoying himself and she kind of sadly figured it was something the boy had been wanting and needing.

She's now left to wonder what she'll say when he's old enough to understand and asks about his father. She certainly can't say she's the immaculate conception.

Jay was pulling at the grass at his feet, his knees pulled up in front of him. Transparent, she can see that he was thinking about something. She wasn't sure how long they had been sitting in silence.

"So, is this what your weekends usually look like?" she finally asked, sensing he'd be more comfortable if there was some type of conversation happening. "You know other than chasing after bad guys."

He chuckled and adjusted his legs, leaning back onto his hands. "Not really. No. Just on some _special_ occasions like today. It depends on work, actually. Sundays, I usually sleep in. Then, I'd go to the gym." he pointed down the park, "But, yeah, I like to walk. Book store, coffee, friends. That kind of thing. Sometimes I'd hang with my brother."

"Oh, you have a brother."

He nodded. "Yeah. He's a doctor. Plastic surgeon."

"Wow. Plastic surgeon!" she said, even more taken aback. "That's so cool."

Maybe he could give her lip enhancers on the _friends-only_ discount.

He smirked and dropped his eyes a bit. "Yeah. So cool, right." It was quiet again for a moment. "What about you? Any siblings?"

She shook her head, thinking about Teddy. She hadn't seen him since the morning Bunny told her that his father came to take him back to New York. "Ah, no. It was just me."

She didn't want to waste time explaining her life story, so she lied.

He just nodded. She was sure he felt a little awkward by her response but it was a casual question. She didn't fault him. It wouldn't have been much of a big deal for a _normal_ person from a _normal_ family. But she didn't really feel like she had ever fit that description.

"What about Noah's dad?" he nodded towards her again sleeping son.

_Noah's dad._

Hmm...

She've always been afraid of being asked that question. _Noah's dad_. Even Annie doesn't know who his dad is, believing her when she said that it's some random guy she had slept with, that she doesn't even know, that it was one of her clients.

She just shook her head again and this time it was her turn to pull at the grass.

"Forget I asked. Sorry." he looked so regretful that he even dared to ask her that.

She wants to forget but now that he'd brought back _those_ memories, she can't stop thinking about _him_.

"It's ok." she mumbled. But she doesn't want to tell him. She doesn't want him to be repulsed by her. She doesn't want to tell anyone actually. Not even Noah.

_It's too embarrassing._

_12:45pm_

And then they were silent again. He can see the hurt in her eyes as they brighten with tears when he brought up Noah's dad and regretted mentioning it, cursing at his stupidity yet again.

He has no business in knowing who Noah's dad was but the curiosity in him wants to know who the guy is and how can he do this to them. _Abandon_ _them_. He has a marvellous son.

So handsome and smart.

He's mad. He hates it when guys deny their children and leave the mother of their children all alone to fend for themselves. To do what's supposed to a two-person job all by themselves. It's always the mothers that are the losers in situations like this since unlike men, they just can't their children. It's much more difficult. Because the bond between a mother and her child is one of a kind.

"I'm really curious, what's your _little_ _friend's_ name?" he asked, meeting her eyes again. She gave him a questioning look. " _Little friend_..." she said, confused. "... _Little friend_. Oh, _Little friend_ , right. Her name's Annie. My best friend." she laughed. "You shouldn't call her that to her face. She'll kill you."

Killing a Chicago Police Department detective. It'd be like getting murdered by a squirrel. She could probably kill him with her words but he can definitely take her down in his sleep.

_Annie._

He smells competition.

He snorted. "She's interesting...but I don't think she likes me very much."

"You really think you gave her a reason to not hate you?" she raised an eyebrow.

He smiled. "I sure did."

She laughed a bit, tucking hairs behind her ears and he caught a glimpse of what looked to be an old deep raised scar on her left wrist when her sleeve slumped a little.

He wondered the story behind it.

_She had tried to kill herself?_

He noted to ask her about it in the future. Now is definitely not the time. They're getting along so perfectly.

"You don't like talking about yourself much, do you?" he said. "Or just talking in general?"

She smiled and looked down and rocked Noah, a distraction. "I guess not."

He nodded. "That's ok. I get it, I'm not a big talker either. Silence just makes that getting-to-know-you period kind of prolonged."

"Sitting on the grass is kind of cold." she commented.

"Yeah, you want to start walking back?" He was already standing and offered her a hand to help her up. Chivalry is not dead, it turns out to be.

She just isn't used to men treating her like that, with respect and dignity. But she took it, thanking him.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked at it. She's surprised that Bunny hadn't blown up her phone like she had been for the past few days. But she was almost more surprised to see that it was past one in the afternoon already. She didn't realise they'd been out that long.

She enjoyed.

"It's almost 1:30." she told him.

He nodded. "Yeah. My stomach clock had gone off a while ago."

"You should've said something." she said as they started to walk down the boardwalk.

He shrugged. "You guys seemed ok. There's a good pizza place on the way, if you want a slice."

She shook her head. "I don't really eat pizza."

"I hope that's not a diet thing." he said. She caught his calming eyes again. "You don't need to be dieting."

* * *

_3:34pm_

"So what'd you say to the landlord?" she asked after putting Noah in his crib. She've been wondering what tricks he played on the landlord for him to fix her heater for _free_.

_Free!_

She didn't have to spend a dime.

And so for the first time this winter, she shacked out of her coat and scarf, enjoying her cozy apartment. Cheeks turning rosy in warmth.

It's warm. It's really finally warm. They can all stop wearing silly hats and scarfs now.

"You don't really wanna know. Trust me." he smiled at her. And she nodded. The less she knows, the less involved she'll be.

"So, I take it that I'm forgiven?"

"Well..." she gave him an unsmiling look and he was practically begging her with his ocean blues.

_How can she not forgive him?_

"Yea. All's forgiven." she nodded, "My advice, don't ever threaten a mother like that ever again."

"Lesson learned."

"Just wait a sec." she quickly said before escaping into a room down the hall.

He stood by the front door with a grin on his face. _Boy isn't he glad that he had threatened the landlord._

Erin really is something else, _special_.

She came rushing back with a giddy smile on her face, all excited about something.

_Beautiful._

"So, I got these from a friend. Long story, you don't want to know." she quickly added.

She kind of, sort of, got them from a _'friend'._

_Well, he was her friend for the night when she and two other strippers were hired at a private bachelor party about a month ago._

Only then did Jay notice the strips of Blackhawks tickets in her hands.

"Anyway, I'm not much of a fan, really. And I assume you like ice hockey since almost every guy in Chicago does. I don't know." she rambled on with bright eyes and in relatively higher pitch than normal. "In fact, I don't have the first clue as to how hockey works, so...here." she extended her arm out to him, passing the the two tickets to him.

She's giving him her Hawks tickets.

Naturally, he's surprised. They've been sold out for months and he's been trying to get his hands on them for as long as he could remember. While he had only intended to spend next weeks's evening at home, Jay would be lying if he were to say that the offer wasn't tempting. "Are you serious?"

For as long as he could remember, Jay had always been a fan of hockey, especially the Blackhawks - being that the home team.

As a boy, his father had made a point to teach him about specific plays and rules of the game. They used to spend hours watching it on TV and when his father could afford tickets, he'd take him and his older brother to a game or two.

_Those were fond memories._

Erin nodded, pushing her arm forward once more. "Really, you can have them." she insisted, her voice adamant. "Take one of your buddies. I don't know...The other detective who was here too."

 _Antonio_.

He'd like that very much.

Finally, he does take it, snapping the paper down against his other palm. "Thank you, Erin. I really do appreciate it."

She swayed on her feet before placing her hands in the pockets of her jeans. "Sure. Enjoy yourself."

He was still staring at her, speechless. This might be the best thing anyone's ever given him.

Twisting on her heel, she moved to stand next to the door. "Uh...I guess that's it. I'll see you around."

For longer than he planned, Jay watched her, frozen in place as the door was closing. Looking down at the tickets, an idea came to mind. "Come with me!"

He clearly didn't take much time to think it through. He doesn't need to. He's adamant. He's sure he wants her to come with him.

She stopped on her tracks, clearly surprised by his sudden suggestion. He scratched at the back of his head, nervous. "Yeah, you should. Come with me. They're your tickets anyway."

"Really?"

He smiled, passing one of them back to her.

"I must warn you though, I'm not sure how much of the game you'll actually get to watch in between explaining all of the stuff to me." she admitted, laughing dryly in the end.

"I don't care. I just know for a fact that we'll have the best time."

. . .

_"Every human is born of collusion. We come into this world the result of a covenant. Sometimes made of love. Sometimes of circumstance. But almost always made in secret." - Emily Thorne_


	9. IX

** Chapter IX **

_7:03pm_

They met outside of the United Center - the home stadium to many of the city's professional sports team - like they had planned. She gave him a wave because she doesn't know what she's supposed to do.

_Hug him?_

That seems inappropriate for their lack of a relationship. She can't define them. She doesn't know what they are. _They're friends?_ She guess they could be considered as friends but she don't really know because not so long ago, he was the enemy. But she knows for sure that he's not her boyfriend. _Why the hell would she even think that?_ Anyway she really don't think he sees her that way. Besides she's never had one. _A real boyfriend that is._ One that she actually loves and cares for endlessly and he too would reciprocate the desired feelings. Not what she used to do - _'befriend'_ a junkie just like her so she could have easy access to drugs and booze. She'd never have to worry about a fix, they'd provide it for her and she didn't have to spend a dime. And if they couldn't or wouldn't, she'd hop onto the next junkie. _She's pretty girl_ , she'd tell herself. She'll find someone who'd give her what she needs. That was the life she was living. And now as she thinks back, she definitely was livin _g 'the life'_ like she thought she was.

Some people couch hop, she guy hop.

No guy has ever taken her out on a date. And truthfully that's on her because she chooses guys who are emotionally unavailable just like her and the only emotion they showed or shared was for their next fix. Just like her. _Wait a minute, is this even considered as a date?_ She don't really know too. Dates to her are getting paid at the end of the night. Dates to her are in hotel rooms or in vehicles. Dates to her are whatever her clients wants to do or wants her to do, whether be it uncomfortable or not, she has to suck it up. _No pun intended._ She probably shouldn't be talking to him about any of this, remotely, not even an utter since as far as he's concerned she's working the night shifts for a cleaning company.

He smiled at her and she blushed when he rested a palm on the small of her back, guiding her to the entrance.

She's changed. _Troubled_. She's not the same woman she was years ago - she doesn't guy hop anymore, she doesn't go around pinching people like she used to - or even a month ago, though her occupation remains unchanged. _Clean_. Despite that fact, she'd like to think that her maturity somewhat elevated since her last drug binge. Everything is much clearer now. _Rational_.

Thanks to Annie. She loves her. She doesn't know what she'd do without her. Mixing both cocaine and heroin was the dumbest choice she's ever made.

_What the hell was she thinking!_

She clearly wasn't.

Jay and her been texting, only texting and nothing more. _Strictly texting._ And since she doesn't have money yet to buy herself a new phone, she've been using her old Motorola Razr that her stepfather got her for her sixteenth birthday, that she's embarrassed to pull out now, so she's keeping it on vibrate for now. It's still salvageable even with the cracked screen, even when that phone hosted many of her dark secrets, even when he only got her that phone so as to shut her up.

She learned quickly that she too can get her way. All she had to do was threaten to tell the authorities. They'd believe her. She's the minor. But that was only short lived when he grew tired of her demands, screaming at her that he'd kill Bunny and make her watch her mother's agonisingly slow death, and he'd do the same to her. She thought she had the upper hand but boy was she wrong and she didn't disobey him since then just to find out what he's capable of doing.

_She knows her limits._

And since her ribs were still aching, she hadn't yet gone back to work even when Misha insisted - _no_ \- threatened her that she does and soon because they're losing clients which entails to losing money without their number 1 Double Dzz Doll. _Dandelion_. Her.

Though she doesn't want to, she suppose she had to go back to work st some point. She can't live off of Annie forever. It's just that she's been enjoying herself this past weeks with her son and Annie that she's finally living life with a clear mind. _Not tired. Not sluggish. Not sad._

 _Next week._ She'll tell Misha that she'll go back to dancing next week. He'll be happy and that's more than she can ask for.

_7:15pm_

Right now, she's two thirds excited since she've never been to a huge event like this and one third terrified of the fact that her stepfather could and might find out she was on a date with a detective, a cop, the police.

_Police!_

If he thought she was talking to the police about his so called _'business'_ , she can only imagine what he'll do to her if she dates one.

_Oh, not that she wants Jay to be her boyfriend or something._

Since Misha has eyes and ears everywhere and since Jay's a cop, him being in her neighbourhood is absolutely off limits. He's a powerful monster who's capable of anything and what he did to her would seem like a very tiny paper cut.

And besides her stepfather has been stopping by at her apartment unannounced lately. Even Bunny. She doesn't know why and she's dreading most days because she doesn't know when he'll show up. _Paranoid_. Misha must have an agenda for his visits. He always has an agenda, she just can't figure out what that may be. It's nerve wracking and scary, really, because she doesn't know what he'll do - she could say something or even say nothing at all and he'll snap - and she doesn't want him around Noah or even Annie.

And Annie, she's tough but she's just as small as she is, if not smaller. A woman trapped in a squirrel's body. She's cute, childlike and is no match for her giant of a stepfather.

It's clear that Annie doesn't like him with the scowl she gave him on the first night he stopped by. She was shocked nonetheless to open the door to him and told Annie that she could handle this herself. And she did, he left minutes later after telling her that she needed to get back to work.

He gives her the creeps as Annie so eloquently put. And like she has said Annie's not stupid and that couldn't be anymore true when she figured out that it her stepfather who had bruised her - to say the least - because it's evident that her demeanour changes whenever he's around.

"He! That fucking bastard! He did that to you!" she had shouted. "And you're letting him prance around like it was nothing!"

In return, she tried shushing her, yanking her by the arm when she almost flung the door open. "Are you crazy! Annie, stop! You don't know him. You don't know what he's capable of."

"Ok. Then tell me. Tell me why you're so afraid of your stepfather."

And so she did. She told her everything, from the burning bright reminder on her left wrist and the reason as to why she was such an angry teen and to how Noah came about.

"Has he always been abusive?"

She shook her head, thinking back to the first time her mother introduced her to this monster. _Bunny's always the cause for all her problems._ He had given her a bear hug and she can't and doesn't want to even imagine the perversion lurking in his filthy mind.

He was nice to her. Too nice maybe and she was just ten years old and all she ever wanted was a father because hers had died too soon. "No. But, I guess that's what makes him dangerous."

_7:33pm_

Turning around, paranoid of whom of her stepfather's men might be watching, she hugged her torso tighter and slightly hunched over as she could still feel the force of Misha's kicks as he stomped on her abdomen.

"Are you ok?" Jay asked. The palm he had on the small of her back had now crept up to her shoulder as he looked at her with grave concern.

No one has ever looked at her that way. _Well, Annie has._ But she's just her friend.

Nodding, she told herself to relax, to not let Misha control the bearings of her life anymore, like he has for so many years. _She's an adult now - twenty-four and with a child of her own - and not a little girl anymore. She doesn't need his permission._ But it's Misha and one can't ever hide from Misha. _He'll find you. He always will_. And one can't ever ran from Misha. _He'll find you. He always will_.

And he found her. He always have. She could never run far enough and she've tried - God knows how hard she've tried - and every time she'd run away from that haunted house, he'd figure a way to find her. Dragging her by the arm or throwing her on his shoulder with her kicking and screaming each time. And every time, her punishments got harsher and harsher until she realised the only way out this predicament her mother forced her in was juvenile detention. _That, or death._ And since hell didn't want her, jail time was her last resort.

"Yea." she shook her head and smiled to mask the anxiety growing in the pit of her stomach, "I'm good."

_7:40pm_

They chatted for a while as they waited in line. "How's the case going?" she asked.

"Good." he lied. It was actually going nowhere. But can't tell her that. He doesn't know if she knows that he's not in liberty to discuss any aspect of the case with an outsider and he doesn't know how to express that without being curt, without sounding like an ass. So, he opt to change the subject. "How's Noah?"

"He's good, yeah." she chuckled and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, "He's actually turning one next week."

"Oh, really! You must be so excited."

She crossed her arms around her chest, pouting, and he can't help but think that she looked like a kid who didn't get her way. "Not really." she muttered, "He's supposed to be my baby and now he's growing up so quickly and, and..." she trailed off and Jay noticed the shine in her eyes and now, he feels like an idiot for asking about her son - of course, she'll get emotional - because he's making her cry.

"Sorry." she shrugged, blinking, and just as quickly her eyes void of the twinkle on their beds. "Annie's with him now."

 _Annie_. The best friend who's not too fond of him and he knows exactly why. He's not stupid. He sees the way she looks at Erin and the way she talks about her. Though it was just that one time he saw _that_ look, he automatically concluded that he's certainly certain. _He can smell a competition from a mile away._ But he's not too certain of Erin's awareness. It doesn't seem like she knows that a certain someone has a certain feeling for her.

_Wow, that's a lot of certains._

"Annie doesn't like me very much, does she?"

Her brows crinkled, "What makes you say that?"

_7:51pm_

Looking around, she just noticed, after being here for almost an hour, the wave of red shirts moving through the entrance of the arena. All around her, people were decked out in jerseys, wearing hats and shirts of many varieties. Even Jay - as he walked beside her - was wearing a red jersey with the team's logo stamped on the front.

"Clearly, I'm going to stand out like a sore thumb." she whined while looking down at the very plain tee shirt she wore beneath her winter jacket.

Stopping in his place, Jay also took a moment to study her appearance. _He's staring at her._ Under the scrutiny of his gaze, she can practically feel her stomach twist and churned painfully and she can't help but blush. _Why is she feeling this way?_ The last time she blushed this bad was in the seventh grade when Chad Michael - the boy every girl had a crush on - chose her to be his lab partner.

_Those were the happier times._

She tried not to notice how closely he's standing next to her or the way he's hovering over her as a result of their rather large height difference.

Soon enough, he's removing his own hat and placing it on her head, smoothing out her hair as he does. "Not anymore."

He smiled one of those toothy smiles that brought out the blue sparkles in his eyes and Erin can't help but return the grin. Just as wife. She deserves some genuine fun in her life, not the kind of fun you get from numbing yourself with drugs, alcohol and sex. _Fun_. The kind of fun normal people with normal lives has.

_She just wants to be normal._

Jay thought that she looks rather cute with all the blushing. And he can't help but notice that he may or may not be the culprit to her rosey cheeks. And he hasn't got a clue why.

 _Ok._ Maybe it's because he's been purposefully making her blush just so he could see those killer dimples.

_Cruel of him?_

Maybe.

_8:36pm_

It's over half an hour now and they're seated on their respective seats and she thinks they've gotten the good seats or so Jay said that they do. But she doesn't know why because they're quite close to the rink and all she could see and hear are the loud banging that shakes her the bone as two players slam each other into the plastic window thingy.

She really should ask him what they're called but she's embarrassed to.

"Wait…they're allowed to do that?!" she shouted, covering her mouth in slight horror at the sight of two players throwing wild punches at each other.

Though she believes herself to be having the correct reaction to this kind of violence - seeing two grown men scuffle - everyone else in the surrounding stands appears to be thoroughly enjoying the spectacle.

_They're watching ice hockey not boxing, right?_

Next to her, Jay laughed as he rested back into his chair. "It's just one of the traditions of the sport. They'll likely both be penalised for it though." he shrugged before drinking from the beer he purchased from one of the concession stand.

"Oh."

She doesn't get it but he seemed to be thorough enjoying whatever was happening himself and so she laughed along and pretended like she understood.

One might think for a woman with a violent history like hers, being both the assaulter and the assaulted, she ought to not be troubled by such mockery. But the truth is, it still gets to her sometimes. Maybe because the only reason why she lashes out in the first place was because she felt so miserable and terrified and to her, at that time, her teenage self thought that punching people to the brink of death was her only form of release.

_8:42pm_

The men in the row right behind her were standing, shouting, and throwing their arms rapidly at each, scaring Erin slightly by their proximity and she scooted to the edge of her seat. They could fall and trampled them to death. "Oh God! They're going to kill us!" At this point, she's anything but uncertain.

Directing his attention away from the fight that continued down at the ice, Jay turned to watch her. Just above her cheekbone, there still was a tinge of yellow and he frowned. Everything else that had been on her face had been healed but except that small spot underneath her right eye. Though she said she fell, no body gets finger marks from just falling.

Wearing his cap, she looked to be a genuine fan. In that moment, he's positively sure that it was the right decision to bring her along. Not only because it had been the right thing to do, but also because her company is hardly undesired. She looks good tonight, _pretty even_ , so much better than that swollen and bruised girl from a month ago.

 _How could anyone hurt her?_ She's so dainty and fragile. Like a beautiful _flower._ She's such a little thing - skinny, her shoulder blades poking at him ever so often.

"No, it's fine." he assured her. Sitting up, he leaned in closer to her. Her shoulder blades poked at his arm and he pointed out to the rink as he began to explain some of the details to her once more. "The guy there, the one on the left is going to hit the ice soon. They'll stop it then." And then, as if clockwork, the member of the opposing team involved in the scuffle does just that and the game quickly resumed as if the entire thing had never occurred.

"Wow." Still shocked by the events, Erin's mouth remained open even as she turned to face him. "That's impressive."

He smiled, happy to see her enjoying the action.

_9:58pm_

After the game, final score 3-2 in the Hawks favor, Jay and Erin walked to hail a cab. Although he insisted that he drives her home, that she didn't need to pay him, he joked, she somehow was adamant that she could take herself home. And he knows to never force a lady to do something she doesn't want to, especially when her mind has been made up. Even when it's ridiculous. So, he let it be and they walk side-by-side to the curb.

With his hands stuffed in his pockets, she found herself staring in his direction. _Decent_. That's the first word that popped into her head. He's the first decent guy she's ever had the pleasure to stumble upon. If only he wasn't an asshole when they first met. _Handsome_. Well, it's no surprise that he's decent looking too. But only if he knew how she got those tickets, she knows for a fact that he wouldn't want to have to do anything with her anymore. He wouldn't be laughing or shrugging it off. He wouldn't be saying that he doesn't care. He wouldn't or maybe even couldn't look at her anymore and that thought, she doesn't know why, hurt her more than she'd like to admit.

He's a cop and she's a slutty criminal. _In a_ _literal sense_. But no matter how badly she wants to get out of the business, she can't. She's been marked for life. He doesn't know that she gets paid for sex and strips and dances for money and he should never know her secrets because somehow, she cares tremendously about what he thinks of her too.

Realising that she was still wearing his hat, she removed it from her head and tried to hand it back to him. "Here."

He pushed it away as they walk. "No. Keep it."

She stumbled over her words for a minute. "But it's yours. You should…"

"I mean it. It looks better on you than me."

Erin grinned at him, warmed by the gesture. "Well, thank you then."

"You sure you don't want me to give you a ride?"

Nodding, she mumbled something in the remnants of _it's late_ and _she doesn't want to bother him._ But she can never bother him.

She's mumbling and not meeting his gaze because she's finding in difficult to ignore the fact that he's too close to her right now and she's almost positive that she would still be able to smell his cologne tomorrow morning if she were to try hard enough.

With the many men she've slept with in her lifetime, she've never, not once, felt this way. It's both confusing and refreshing at the same time.

"Thanks again for the tickets." he said, "I had fun."

She smiled, happy to hear that.

"Even with all the tutoring you had to do?" she wondered.

_That's the best part._

Jay laughed inwardly then, causing most of his body to rise a bit as he smiled down at his feet. "Yeah. Even in spite of that."

In fact, he didn't even mind having to explain most of the game to her. It was fun to see those dimples, to see her face light up with excitement as she slowly began to understand some of the plays, cheering along with the rest of the crowd. Transforming from that miserable girl to this beautiful girl who's smile is forever imprinted in his mind.

_10:09pm_

His eyes were intense again when he finally looked up. She wishes he would stop looking at her that way, so she could stop blushing. She's never quite sure of what to do with herself when he does.

Feeling awkward and nervous, Erin extended her hand out, thinking a handshake to be the safest option when having to say goodbye to someone. Not too complicated, though a little formal for her liking. Truly, she's still confused as to whether this little outing qualifies as them being friends or not.

But she really do thinks they can finally be classified as friends.

Jay gave her a soft smile and she felt her heart begin to race as he drew her in closer, so close that they’re noses are touching the ever slightest. “It’s - It’s, uhh, getting late.” he whispers the words softly against her lips and the pillows of them almost - just almost brush against hers.

Erin blinked in confusion.

_Why doesn’t he kiss her already?_

It has been obvious that he wants too. The warmth of his body radiates still, and it is very inviting on this chilly evening. But then, it dawned on her that he’s silently - not so silently - asking for her permission.

No one has ever done that before. They all just take, take and take what’s not theirs. To the point where she’s not so sure it was ever hers to protect in the first place. But this feels nice. This change feels good. _Clean_.

This must be what _normal_ feels like.

Never one to turn away from a goal, Erin steps even closer, wraps her hand around his neck, pulling him forward until his lips meet hers and kisses him. Jay pauses for only a fraction of a second, then his lips responded to hers, just as she knew they would. But the touch of his mouth on hers is so tender, adoring.

No one has ever handled her like this before. Like she’s too delicate and precious, he’s afraid she might just break in two.

Erin closes her eyes as the kiss sends unforeseen thrill through her body. His lips explore hers so gently, like they have all the time in world and he wants to spend all of it tasting her. With all her clients, she has always been the one in control and now it slips from under her fingers, or rather lips, in an alarming speed.

He tastes like beer and she doesn’t exactly enjoy beer. But she doesn't hate it right now as much as she should. It's actually kind of intoxicating. He's kind of intoxicating, really.

She presses herself to him, opening his mouth with her lips, deepening the kiss and reclaiming her hold on him. He cups her face in his hands and kisses her back with fervour, but it has the exact opposite effect, only making her come undone more. Her whole body sinks forward into his arms and she feels something melting inside of her, a liquid sensation expanding through her body.

Suddenly, this feels like everything she wants. Her heart demands more, fluttering against her rib cage like a songbird on its first flight, but her reason stubbornly denies it its freedom.

This is not what she needs, not now.

_Is it?_

She is not what _he_ needs. She cannot ever be.

She’s just Erin Lindsay.

If only he knew who the real Erin Lindsay is.

_10:13pm_

She touches his cheek to slow the kiss down; their lips come apart, but she holds her mouth close to his, still sharing the same breath and unwilling to move away.

When she finally does, she sees his eyes burning with lust and something else she cannot name-

" _Solnyshko_!"

That sounds familiar. _Solnyshko_. She can still hear that in a distance, somehow creeping in closer and closer into her thoughts.

_Solnyshko!_

Only her stepfather calls her that...

_My sunshine._

...and if she's hearing that right now that can only mean...

"Fuck!" she whispered against his lips, quickly shoving him harshly by the chest. She didn't mean to. She really didn't and she feels awful but if only he knows how this day that had started so amazingly could now end so terribly for her.

_How did he know she's here?_

She could very well just answer her own question. She knows the answer.

 _He'll find you. He always will_.

Jay stumbled backwards a little as he looked at her, stunned. Lips quivering and confused. If anything he's struck by her change in behaviour.

_Had he done something wrong? Should he have not kissed her?_

He must have read all the signs so wrong because he really thought she liked him too.

 _She's deathly pale and shaking_ , he noticed.

"I'm sorry. I - I have to go." she all but whispers, panic-stricken and averts his gaze. But as he attempted to reach out for her, attempted to ask what's the matter, she all the more backed away before he could even touch her and swiftly turned on her heel; she bumps face first into a broad chest as a result.

She let out a strangled cry, praying that Jay didn't hear her weakness, and bit her tongue when she looked up at her stepfather.

" _Solnyshko_ , I have been calling you. You didn't hear me?" she felt him tense up, his arm tightened around her shoulder, almost as if he was squeezing her into his side, letting the third wheel know who she truly belonged to.

"I'm sorry. I, umm, was with a friend." she gestured at Jay and briefly glanced up at him - very very briefly because she knows how her stepfather gets around her male _‘friends’._

Jay is confused, she can see that, and she hopes her stepfather doesn't say anything snarky or smart because this could end badly for the both of them.

"A friend?" He retorts, amused.

She didn't know where else to look at other than dark ground. So, she did and nodded slightly.

"Jay. And you are?" Jay extended a hand out, never taking his eye off of Erin - she's clearly shaking - and the over six feet not-so-friendly giant reciprocated with a deathly handshake. But he kept his face stern.

"Erin’s stepfather."

* * *

_10:41pm_

By the time he made it home, he feels worse than he did when he watched her get into the car with her stepfather.

_What could he have done?_

No crime has been committed. She chose her stepfather instead, even though her body language screamed otherwise. Maybe it was pleading with him to do something more than to try and convince her to let him drive her home.

_What does she want him to do? Arrest him? And what for?_

But somehow, he got the distant feeling that that would definitely not be a smart move.

He ran his hands through his hair, fist them. ever so frustrated with himself, and wondered what it would be like to pull his hair out and scream like in the movies.

"Erin, let me take you home. I really don't mind. In fact, I insist." he was almost begging her as he placed a hand on her shoulder. They're poking into his palm now but she's not shaking anymore.

Her stepfather had said something to her in Russian in which he obviously doesn't understand but he figured it was somewhere in between _he's going to go get the car_ and _don't say anything stupid_.

It was just an educated guess. It could be wrong. Because irregardless of the context, the Russian language will always sound harsh.

She nodded and began spitting lies.

Taking deep steady breaths, he tried his very best to concentrate on whatever was playing on TV and believe her words for what they're worth, that she's okay. But the harder he tried, the more guilt and concern hovered.

"No, I'm good, Jay. My stepfather's here now. He’ll take me home. Thank you for the offer, though." she said politely, eagerly like she needs to get the hell out of here, almost pleading for him to listen to her. _Please. Please, Jay._ Like it was all rehearsed. Like she had said it enough times to coax herself into believing that lie. She didn't look at him - her eyes were still planted on the ground - or she maybe couldn't look at him, wasn't allowed to.

“Erin.”

As she opened the door to the passenger seat, he took mental note of the license plate. _AG23353_. He wanted to grab her and hurry her into his car instead and protect her but that would be kidnapping on his part.

She said she'll be fine. He has to believe that.

_She'll be fine._

God, he hopes so.

. . .

_"Just as there are two sides to every story, there are two sides to every person. One that we reveal to the world, and another that we keep hidden inside." - Emily Thorne_


	10. X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a hoax. This is an actual update. Apologies for not updating sooner. This chapter is a bit long and it will get a little uncomfortable towards the middle.
> 
> Everyone who has been encouraging me to continue, thank you very much. This is for you. 
> 
> Recap of Chapter 9:
> 
> Erin and Jay were having a lovely time in their date at the Blackhawks game before her stepfather showed up and ruined the atmosphere.
> 
> It starts off from where we left these two.
> 
> Enjoy.

** Chapter X **

_10:27pm_

When Noah was born she didn't want to hold him; she was frightened because he was so tiny and fragile and squirmy and she thought she'd just be a lousy mother.

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, after all.

She didn't have a clue on how to be a mother, even though she had gone down to the library everyday of her last trimester and read almost every book on parenting and motherhood she could find.

It still wasn't enough. She didn't trust herself.

"No," she shook her head, looking at her boy then to the nurse looming above her, "I can't. I don't know how." she pleaded, voice rough from the excursion and shame.

Not that she didn't know how to hold a baby - well, it theory, she did know, she had read how to, after all. But to actually actually hold a newborn in her arms, she wasn't so sure, at that time.

She hadn't ever held one until her own.

"Child, you better hold him. Hold him and never let go."

And when she took him in her arms, held her bloodied child close to her chest for the very first time, shaking and crying, for a little while there, she felt whole again, complete. _Family_. It was still frightening but she did it. _Family_. He is her family and it was all she ever wanted in life.

"Noah."

She vowed to never let him go.

When she woke up from the dreamless nap and the little pinkish bundle was, once again, placed in her arms, Erin realised she was still frightened.

But there had been no time to be scared as there was room for little more than fascination and a convoluted, gigantic affection that she couldn't handle yet. She recalled spewing greetings and promises with a raspy voice, unaware of her own words, the raw scent coming from both of them, and little else.

Now that they had both rested a little and started to understand their new places in this world, Erin could allow herself to be taken aback by the small, toothless human tucked in her arms. No matter how many times she had seen babies; this felt completely unprecedented. Now, she realised, her job had just started.

She shifted in bed, carefully unwrapping Noah just enough to examine his body. She could see a small bump in his chest, thumping quickly, and a shiver went down her spine, realising his little heart was just a few thin layers of skin and muscle away. His wrinkled face contorted slightly, making a small squeal when he yawned. Erin trembled more.

It was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard, and the strangest. She wondered if laughing at the poor little creature would be acceptable for a new mom. But then again, there was no one to judge her here, so she chuckled delightfully.

Her baby was the cutest wrinkled thing in the world and made the funniest sounds, and was delicate as a looking glass. She caressed his nearly inexistent fair hair with the tip of her fingers and wondered if it'd get darker with time. She stared deep in his blue-green eyes and wondered if it'd stay like that forever.

Probably not, but still it was a spark of herself in another person, in the most intimate way. It was from inside out, flesh she built and nurtured in her own entrails, and that now was someone who was breathing and producing lovely sounds. She believed he had all fingers and toes _(she didn't check)_ and that his insides were okay _(she didn't ask)_ and that he was overall healthy, that there was nothing to be aware about _(she couldn't know)_.

Erin realised she was crying when tears fell on his blanket. She nonchalantly wiped them from her face, knowing too well they were from sheer fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of her stepfather, fear that he could be taken away. It'd been a long time since she was that afraid.

But he was worth it. And she placed a tender kiss on his forehead, lowering her head to touch the tip of his nose with hers, grinning just for him.

On the fourth night at home alone with Noah, she felt terror again.

**XXX**

_10:42pm_

Right now, it is terror that she feels. Terror that she might not be able to make it home tonight to see her baby boy. Terror that she will not get out of this car unscathed. _Terror. Fright._ Dread, because either way, something is bound to happen tonight.

All the fright are directed at her stepfather because he's purposeful and calculating and he knows everything when it comes to her since he has his henchmen follow her wherever she goes.

It's infuriating and ridiculous but how else would he know that she was at United Center tonight.

_10:45pm_

It's silent in his car. _Deathly silent._ There might as well be crickets and the only thing she can hear over the quietude is the harsh pounding in her chest. There's a ringing, too, in her ears and she can hardly breathe, let alone get her brain to think of something - an excuse, a reason, anything as to why she was out and about with Jay, a cop - so he wouldn't kill her.

She's almost certain that he's boiling with rage. He doesn't appear to be outwards, though, she knows her stepfather, he's probably plotting her murder right now because _whythefuckwasshefratinisingwiththeenemy_!

It's always so silent whenever she's in his car because it's not like the both of them have anything in common or anything interesting to discuss or talk about.

But tonight, its worse; it's silent with a purpose.

 _No._ She's wrong. _It's loud._ Even with the silence between them, it's loud. God, it's so fucking loud. It's in her head screaming at her, telling her to beg for forgiveness because tonight, she'll be sucking in her last breath. Not taking it in or breathing in her last breath but sucking it. Maybe even choking on her last breath because she knows Misha and she knows he likes to be hands on; it's more intimate that way. He likes to watch his victims' eyes blink out their existence like an unplugged Christmas tree.

She's seen him done that before.

Maybe she ought to just open the door right now and let gravity take her.

Stoic, she peers to her right and thinks about opening the passenger door next to her and jumping out. At the speed he is driving, she will be lucky. Just a couple of broken skin and bones. Maybe. That would be unfortunate but still, the thought crosses her mind.

_Would she rather die a slow and painful death or a fast and quick one?_

She's really contemplating that option.

... and it's locked.

Of course it is.

_11:03pm_

She's scared. More so now than ever and she feels as though she's about to cry. But she knows she won't because her tears seems to be too proud fall. For now, that is.

She's scared. Eyes never taking off the dark, slick and cold road ahead as she presses her head into the window. The headlights giving life to the dimly lighted streets. She'd like to be as far away from his wrath as possible.

She's scared. Because she knows she has made the stupid decision of going with her stepfather and not Jay. She knows. She knows. Irregardless of what she likes to think, she had no options. Going with Jay was not ever in her cards.

Her heart thumped wildly against her chest when she slammed the passenger door shut. Her stepfather was keeping quiet, she noticed. Then, she started, pleaded with him to listen to her because she knew him and what the silence meant.

"He's just a friend. I promise."

His only response before hitting the gas pedal was that guys like him, Jay, will never be 'just friends' with girls like her.

_And what kind of a girl is she?_

She already knows the answer to that one.

She's scared. And she didn't fasten her seatbelt because she's really hoping they'll get into an accident so she could soar through the windshield and be free from his control.

She's scared. Not like how she was when Noah was born but close enough. She knows Noah's safe with Annie, and that thought calms her more than anything else tonight. If anything were to happen to her tonight, Annie will keep him safe.

This, as she chews fiercely at her nails while Misha drives in silence, seems oddly familiar and not in the nostalgic kind of way. It was more on the remnants between forgotten memories and repressed ones.

_11:15pm_

Almost vaguely, she recalls her first attempt at running away from home. She had gotten better at the act over the years, but that one was one of her finest, if anyone were to ask. She was fourteen and she had planned it since the day he betrayed her trust. It was clearly botched and all the other attempts after that was as well, because she's still living the same dreadful nightmare.

It was dark. She had waited patiently until Bunny passed out, Misha wasn't home, she knew he wouldn't be, and that was the reason why she had chosen that Wednesday to escape. Ten minutes past one in the morning, she tiptoed to the front door, adrenaline more than anything was what kept her on, pumping her with uncertainty. And it was also deathly quiet when she heard the lucrative jiggle of the doorknob and conveniently, at that second, her legs decided to stop coordinating with her brain and she came face-to-face with her stepfather.

"Where do you think you're going?!" he yelled then.

She whimpered, quickly turning around, dropping her bag with a loud thud, to run to the backdoor. But obviously at six foot five, it took him merely three steps to catch up to her.

"Were you trying to run away, Solnychko?" he threw her to the ground, spitting venom, and she cried out when he slapped her.

Bunny ran down the stairs to her rescue, screaming at him to stop. _Stop it!_ It was one of the handful of times she intervened.

She went to school with a bruise on her cheek the next day. She lied to everyone who asked, said that she'd been jumped by the kids from her neighbourhood. So, from then on, she would purposely throw punches just to coverup the ones she got at home.

It was easy, starting a fight. She was an angry, scrappy little kid and that was the only way she knew how to blow off steam. And for a while, it was surprisingly effective.

That night, she did not sleep. Tossing and turning, she couldn't drown up the haunting shrieks of her mother downstairs no matter how hard she tried. She knew what he was doing and hoped he wouldn't do the same to her.

He didn't.

Though with immense guilt, she was thankful.

In the morning, when she went downstairs to get ready for school, Bunny was on the couch, already halfway done with a bottle of Jack.

"Don't worry. He's out." Bunny slurred.

They never talked about why she tried to run away. Bunny never asked and she isn't one to share.

_11:38pm_

She's scared because they're driving the wrong way home but that shouldn't really surprise her because it's pretty evident from the moment she agreed and stepped into his car that he wouldn't be taking her home.

Well, not to hers at least.

Swallowing the lump stuck in her throat, she musters the courage to ask, "Where are we going?"

She's scared because they've been driving endlessly on this somewhat endless road and he's quiet, he didn't answer her and it's fine, fine - no, that's somehow worse.

The longer she's in here, the less scared she has become because it's an affirmation that he's not going to kill her. He's a sick and twisted son of a bitch, yes, but he's not going to kill the mother of his child.

She likes to not think about it or even mention it to anyone. No one knows but her and maybe, Misha. He likes to throw it in her face whenever he's in one of his moods, that Noah's paternity is in question and itcouldbeanybody's because of what she does but she knows he knows it's the truth.

Distractingly, she peels at the bed of her nail until it stings with sheer calmness, until she can finally feel the relief from the sticky hue.

For a ruthless criminal, he sure does have a tad bit of empathy.

_11:41pm_

Her eyes becomes heavy from exhaustion, so she fiddles with the leather armrest, rubbing the small stitches there so as to not succumb to the desired slumber.

It's almost twelve, she hopes Noah's not giving Annie a hard time. He was munching on broccoli before she left and she remembers his squeals when she gave him a kiss.

 _'Let Auntie Annie sleep, baby',_ she thinks.

She closes her eyes then, finding herself slipping into an unconscious reality, as the motion of the car lulled her into a deep sleep.

_11:42pm_

She envies the ones with the sleeping sickness, the not-coma patients who never wake up. They don't dream. Years since they closed their eyes and went to sleep, years in which the doctors have never been able to understand their condition, and they've never once shown any sign that their rest was ever being disturbed.

She has dreams, rarely. Wakes up remembering scattered images of terrified faces, open fields and running. She has the occasional nightmare, wakes with distant memories of guilt or falling from a great height, but in the light of day they're almost laughable.

What she has most often is worse than nightmares. Dreams, even bad ones, end with the waking; terrors follow her through into the real world and to haunt her. Because her life is a waking nightmare. Because it's no better to wake up from her nightmares. Because it's just as scary.

She dreams she was running, desperately running, trying to escape a thick ward of darkness that was covering everything in her way, and there seems to be no end to it.

She is so tired. She wants to stop and rest, but the darkness keep on coming, keep on looming over her, following her every move.

 _Misha_.

And then, she see ahead of her, a man with no face but his aura was kind. Something she's not accustomed to.

 _Jay_.

She understands that the darkness she saw and felt all around her was not only coming after her but him, too. And he did not seem to be afraid. Calm. He just stood there by the gate to an open field, freedom, and waitedfor her.

_What's their fate?_

* * *

_11:34pm_

When Annie was in first grade, Ms Rubinstein asked her what she wanted to be when she grow up.

 _A mother,_ she said.

"Because I don't have one."

Ms. Rubinstein did not know what to say, if her face was any indication. She still remembers her looking concerned and panicked, flustered as she tried to think of what to say to a six year old.

At that time, she thought that she had said something wrong. Nicole C. had said so.

She still has the worksheet to prove her innocence.

Being the eldest, she had practically raised her siblings. But, when her dad was killed in an accident, she couldn't according to the law and they were put into the system. All six of them. _Separated_. While the younger ones went to relatives or were placed in foster homes, she, being the eldest _(no one really wanted her)_ was placed into the care of group homes. She spent the next three years bouncing from one after another, wondering what was wrong with her since no one wanted her.

She did everything right. Didn't rebel like the other kids.

She graduated. She got married. She couldn't wait to be a mother.

**XXX**

_11:45pm_

She was a preemie, born too soon at only 29 weeks.

Her birth had been one of the most dangerous and scariest situations Annie had encountered.

An emergency c-section brought her to this world. It was too soon. Too dangerous. But the lives of her baby and her were at risk and her husband had agreed to the surgery as per the doctor's advice.

"You could lose them both."

But it did not end there, it was just the beginning of a long and hard fight. Annie will never forget the sight of the littlest baby she had ever seen covered in wires, tubes and noisy machines all over the place.

So fragile.

_Her daughter._

The tiniest little human, not even a day-old fighting for her life.

Her daughter. Ellie. Died not even a week later. And she spent the next couple of years resenting her husband for the decision he made.

**XXX**

_12:02am_

She wakes up suddenly to the sound of thunderous hammering outside in the hallway. Someone has been banging the door next door really loudly. She sits up from the empty bed.

Her arm stretches over to the pillow on the other side of the bed. Goose-bumps rise on her skin as she feels the untouched, ice cold pillow, she quickly withdraws her arm, drawing in back under the covers. She sighs deeply, the ache growing in her heart. She closes her eyes and wills herself to fall back asleep again, now that the banging had stopped.

As she is in the transition from awake to sleepiness, a sudden cry resonates through the whole apartment. Her eyes shoots open and she slowly raises and gets to her feet, shivering as her warm feet meets the cold floor tiles.

She slowly walks down the hallway. The more she approaches the room, the more the cries intensifies. She slowly opens the door, not wanting to scare the person inside. She pats over to the small white crib in the middle of the colourful room.

Annie extends her hand towards the small child laying in the crib, rubbing up and down his belly, cooing softly, trying to ease him.

"Shhh … it's okay, Noah. I'm here, I'm here now …"

Seeing that Noah is still crying his heart out, she picks him up softly, careful not to jostle him too much and cradles him to her chest, inhaling the soft sent of his head.

"Auntie Annie, is here little guy. I'm not leaving you." She continues cooing to him, hoping to stop his cries.

After a couple of minutes of walking around the room, he calms down and his cries turns into small sniffles. She holds Noah tighter to her chest, hoping it could fill some of the void she feels in her heart.

He is slowly falling asleep again in her embrace, but she doesn't have to heart to put him back in his crib. She walks slowly towards the bedroom with Noah in her arms. She rests on the bed, with her back prop up against a couple of pillows. She shifts into a comfortable position, Noah not even stirring awake by this. He's just like her - he's able to sleep like a rock.

She doesn't feel the need to sleep anymore even if it was in the middle of the night. She caresses his blond strands, marvelling at how soft it was, smiling to herself.

_12:37am_

Erin's not home yet. She supposes she went back to his place. After all that's what Erin does best. And what she does best is falling in love with her straight best friend.

* * *

_1:05am_

Erin's eyes flashes open to feel a gust of warmth stinging down her throat, only to realise that the familiar burning is alcohol. Vodka, to be exact. She looks at the bottle in her grasp, confused as to how she has come it.

The thing is, she can't even remember how she got here - Misha's house - she vaguely remembers being woken up at the car ... and that's that.

_Well, so much for sobriety!_

The recognisable sounds of Misha's voice as he spoke to someone on the phone vibrates through the walls, and Erin closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and feels her head rattle with his every word.

_Why does he have to talk so loudly?_

She looks at her hands which has started to shake. She decides that she must be coming down with a chill. But then, she sees the white powder on the table and a lump gets caught in her throat as she realises what she had done.

_Shit!_

Annie's going to kill her.

"I got you clients." Misha says once he was done with the call, turning to fully face her, "A thousand an hour. See, Solnychko? The best for you first. Always."

Erin looks at Misha, holding her head up with her hand. She's tempted to roll her eyes but she's sure that will only exacerbate her migraine.

She knows the hidden meaning of what he had just said because whenever Misha books her high-paying clients _(it's not always only for her benefit; he gets a percentage too)_ , it can only mean that they are out-of-town businessmen who has a taste for the ... kinky side of things or fetish or both.

"Thanks."

"Come here."

She swallows and she goes. There is no other option here. It's bette to comply than to fight, especially now that he's surprisingly pleasant.

Footfalls as silent as a cat's. In the shadow of the evening light, his eyes are so terribly blue. At times like this, it's easier to pretend that her stepfather is just one of her clients. A nameless John and she can be whomever they want her to be.

The bedside table's small lamp glows and she turns it dim – the only light in the room save the city lights which stand against the deep purple sky in lieu of stars.

 _Yeah_. Erin presses her lips together. This will be easier to deal with once it'sover. But also, this will be more trouble than it's worth.

 _Yup_. She's here. The off-ramp is passed. She might as well just do what he's brought her here for. They are committed to this road.

Erin crawls up the mattress. Misha's watching her, leaning back against the headboard and pillows.

"You remember Charlie, yes? Your boyfriend?" Misha asks in a low voice.

_1:29am_

_'Ex-boyfriend,'_ she thinks and is attempted to correct him but doesn't.

She shifts, kneeling between his legs. The mattress underneath them gives way. Erin licks her dry lips, looks away and doesn't answer.

She doesn't want to know. Charlie chose to be involved in something stupid and he is where he is for a reason.

"Don't be like that," he says next, tilting her chin up, and takes her hand into his. "It's only a harmless question, Solnychko. Getting small talk out of way, you know that. If you don't want to answer, then tell me what you want, yeah?"

Honestly, she'd like to do more drugs. More drugs equates to making this less embarrassing and she could relax, too.

She's been eyeing that baggie peeking from behind the pillow for a while now. And she leans over, picking up the bag of white powder from the pillow before holding it in one hand.

She's high and mostly drunk already but still her thoughts are coherent for some reason and she'd like to change that.

_She's broken her sobriety, so what's a little heroin?_

"Shoot for me," he says, accent catching on every letter, drawing out every sound. The bass from the party downstairs thrums like a heartbeat. "I want to see a needle in your arm."

The powder in the baggie isn't meant to be ingested; Erin tosses it dismissively to the foot of the bed. Misha watches as she moves, footsteps smooth, measured, unnatural, for the needle and vial on a silver tray, showpiece on the centre of the dresser, sandwiched between keys and paddles, cuffs and condoms.

"Shoot up, and then I want you on the bed."

This is what they do most of the times she's at the house she grew up in.

Erin doesn't bother with alcohol, doesn't prep at all, just picks up the needle once she's done preparing. She turns, faces Misha, leaning against the dresser. One bruise, yellow and high on her cheekbone, fades. She draws cloudy liquid from the vial, slides the needle into the crook of her elbow, drawing in the syringe to make sure she's hit a vein (or else it's going to burn like hell) and pushes down the plunger when she sees blood. Metal glitters next to her skin: silver against gold, cold against fever-hot, clinical against calculating.

She sighs as the drug hits, takes the needle and tosses it carelessly to one side. Misha's eyes are dark, desperate, glued to Erin as she places one knee on the bed at his side, steadying herself with a light hold on Misha's shoulders. Then the other knee. She settles her weight down. Takes the glasses from his ruddy, ruined face. She leans to set them on the bedside table.

"Can you see?" she asks. Heroin threads her voice, furs over the coiled sensuality with abandoned amusement.

_He's a client. He's a client._

_1:43am_

"I see enough," he says. Erin laughs when Misha bends down, licks blood from the puncture spot on her arm, hums in pleasure when he sucks.

"Good," Erin whispers. She dips her head, leans in. Arms comes to wrap around his neck. Wet warmth of a mouth at the hinge of his jaw. Hands move down to his chest. Take apart buttons with a flick of thin fingers. Erin feels bile in her low throat. She thinks it must be the heroin. It happens sometimes, especially when she's basically floating on cloud nine.

His shirt is undone and Erin's fingers thread through his ochre chest hair. She pulls back slightly. Removes herself to the floor, positioned between his legs. Her knees make a soft sound in the plush carpet. Misha looks down as she undoes the zipper. Her forest green eyes are dark as scum.

**XXX**

_1:57am_

Erin rises again, back onto Misha's lap. Roughly shucks him of his shirt, then pulls his jeans down his thighs, taking the boxers with them. A hand flat to his chest, she pushes him into the soft blankets. Misha allows himself to be pushed. Erin straddles his lap, shifting with both hands on his soft stomach. She rubs there, briefly.

"Do you want me to call you father again?"

**XXX**

_2:23am_

" _Papka_ ," she says, gasps, with the side of her face plastered to the bed, her back finely arched, "Papka."

He drives into her. His body coated in sweat, hers too. Her soft hair bouncing with fragrance against his clenched and bared teeth. His large hands holding tight to those breakable wrists. Like porcelain. Like glass. Her whole being something he could shatter with one correctly positioned thrust. He groans into her neck, that slender thing, and grabs at her hips, hoisting her back on her knees.

She makes a startled sound, and she is all limbs, confused limbs. He sits back on his heels, pulling her into his lap. He grips her tightly, surely, across her chest and clasping a bony shoulder. He drives upwards into her, despite her cries, or because of them.

She struggles, her thin voicing falling into the darkness of the room, eaten up by it. Just that raw sound emitted from her throat and he is eaten up too. His hips stutter, still, quake. He spills himself into her.

**XXX**

_2:48am_

"Papka," she says through a half-kiss.

It's terribly wet and sloppy, nothing that would even resemble a proper kiss between adults. Her mouth is just open, slack, and he drives into it, taking it by way of a rough tongue-fucking, a likeness of how he takes the rest of her.

The bed, wide and soft, shakes beneath them with the force of his downward motions. She moans again, fervently, and tinged with pain. He has her spread, has forced her to help him in this. Her tiny hands gripping the sweat-marked underside of her own knees, pulling them up to her chest. He has full access. His arms, holding her up and strong, feeling like rotted pylons she depends on.

Maybe it's metaphor for her life.

She is moaning something, though she even isn't sure what. She can't hear any proper words, just half-syllables and ghosts of words that slip out between their twined tongues. He shoves down in a particular angle, moving his head into the crook of her neck.

_3:01am_

She says, so soft and sweet, "I want it, _Papka_ , let me have it, let me h-have it ..."

He comes. Turns and bites the flesh beneath him to stifle any oncoming groan. He holds his teeth in her stiffened neck and grinds slowly into that heat, churning his orgasm out in a lazy, rough undulation.

Her moans have turned, so easily, from high to low and Erin is struggling, pushing up slightly into Misha's motion.

Soon, he releases his hold and swallows and lies limp on top of her. They both pant lightly in the darkened high-rise bedroom, with the moon peering in at them.

**XXX**

_3:15am_

The room quiets. Nothing but deep, pained panting from Misha and a bone-deep tiredness settles into her, and she rubs her forehead solemnly against the mattress. She thinks she must have dosed off for a bit there.

Erin's breathing is slightly halted with what sounds like her pressing her lips together. She mutters, "Umm, Misha?"

He releases his tight hold and rolls onto the space next to her.

"You know, you are very good actress. I don't think anyone else could do that for me. No wonder they keep asking for you."

Erin let's that sink in and wipes the sweat from her face. She feels something in the pit of her stomach, which is heavy and unwelcome as an oil-laden meal. But there is satisfaction there, too, she thinks. If this 'act' does it for him, then so be it because that means no kid would have to go through what she did.

She wondered if he ever feels remorseful for taking away her innocence, the childhood that was ripped away from her and she even contemplated on asking him that but thought otherwise because it's much safer to be on his good side. And right now, she is his favourite. He's in a surprisingly good mood and not too long ago, she really thought he'd brought her here to kill her for going out with someone else.

She moves the bangs from her eyes and says, "Thank you, I guess." she says, looking at her watch. She moves, legs swinging over the side of the bed.

As much as she'd like to sleep right now, she'd rather do that it her apartment.

She dresses in near silence, stepping into one leg of her jeans and then another, and Erin tries not to look at her stepfather.

"I heard Charlie is getting out of prison soon."

Erin straightens her posture, swallowing hard. What?He's suppose to have three more years.

"Overcrowding. Two months. Maybe three."

She nods. Leaves the bedroom for the bathroom. Charlie is coming. She's not freaking out. _Why would she be?_ There isn't much more she could do with that information. He's coming whether she likes it or not - he's coming and she knows his first stop will be her apartment.

_What is she going to say about Noah?_

She looks at herself in the mirror; she looks tired and sad; deep rings around her eyes that are filled with shame _(sometimes the drugs can actually wash over it all, mostly, it's just a balm)_ , a gauntness to her face that had not been there tonight.

She had high hopes for tonight. She really did and had been looking forward to her date with Jay. She really thought she could be normal for one night.

Too bad she just can't.

_3:32am_

When she leaves the bathroom, Misha is already dressed and is holding a whiskey on the rocks and in the same hand, a cigarette. Erin takes her purse and moves to the front door.

"It's already late. You can't stay?" Misha asks, or he isn't - she's not very sure - running his hand through his buzzcut. "There's a Hoarders marathon on. Your favourite."

Guilt, she feels awful for Bunny because even though she's a lousy mother, she still is her mother and this isn't right. Morally and ethically. Her daughter sleeping with her husband. But then again, she thought of how Bunny didn't believe her when she told her what Misha did to her and thought better of her guilt.

Because an epiphany came to her one night at juvie and she realised, since Bunny only does things when it's convenient for her, the only reason why Bunny ever intervened when Misha would slap her around and never blame her was driven by self-reproach, because she knew, she've always known and she never did anything.

Bunny knew way before she had even told her.

That epiphany absolutely killed her.

_3:34am_

Erin shakes her head. "I should get home. Noah."

"A line, then?"

"Sure." she shrugs.

_What's one more drug?_

Cocaine will not be the worse thing she did tonight. And with everything she did, there's really no point in shying away right now. Besides a line will not do very much for her.

"Be careful, though. You'll see bog on this stuff." he says and then, the makeshift straw out of a dollar bill is against her nostril and she snorts the entire line in one go.

She straightens up, nostrils starting to burn as she sniffs the final bits of powder up, heart racing in anticipation. She can feel the coke hitting her blood stream, travelling to her brain. She can probably name all of the things happening in her body right now, but the beautiful thing is with each passing second, it becomes less and less important to do so. The focus of her thoughts began to tighten, to contract.

"Here," he's reaching into his pants pocket and pulls out his wallet, "For Noah's birthday. Get something nice for yourself, too."

She retrieved the bills with a thin smile, thanking him.

"Bring him to club tomorrow. I have surprise for my grandson."

"Yeah. Okay."

_3:40am_

"Come." Misha gestures with his hand, beckoning her to sit on his lap.

Erin hesitates, almost shaking her head before looking over at Misha as he takes another long drag from his cigarette - ugh, and now she wants one - but she settles herself on his lap anyway.

The man looked expectantly at her, and Erin could've sworn she'd seen a flash of remorse in his blue eyes, but she didn't dare get her hopes up.

"Closer."

She leans the rest of the way, easing her mouth open slightly to meet his . The scruff of his facial hair itches and prickles against her cheeks. It's a sensation that she finds that she can never get used to, especially when his tongue salved over her lips, soothing the bristle.

He smelt of smoke, and beer and whiskey and Misha cups her jaw with his free hand, pulling her in closer and sucking solely on her tongue. Erin feels as though she is only breathing in air that the other had already exhaled, like life from now on would go through Misha and Misha alone.

_Wait a minute._

Her life has been like that ever since she could remember. She's been trapped for so long, so used to the norm, him being her 'yes' and 'no' that she finds that she never sat and questioned it. Or did anything, really. She had allowed him to control her.

Misha pulls back and left a solid slap playfully against her face, emitting a gasp from her and that's when she felt a stinging on the backs of her shoulder. A slow burning almost electrical sensation and she realises Misha had pressed his cigarette butt against her skin, not putting it out completely but enough to leave a painful welt in its wake and one that most likely will scar.

Her mark.

_3:43am_

And what she does is nothing, she said nothing, did nothing but push herself off and head for the door, even though she was furious.

She can't even react like a normal person would.

When she is downstairs, and out on the fall fresh street, she shivers. Her coat is on Misha's bedroom floor.

* * *

_4:14am_

Happiness is just as fleeting as any drug high. As soon as you find it - boom - it's gone, and you're left searching again. But the path to said happiness is sometimes blocked. And sometimes you just can't get what you want no matter how much sense it makes, or how good it feels.

And now, Erin's path is ... home. Yeah. Even if it's a shitty apartment, it's still where she wants to be. Home with Noah. But she's tired, exhausted and going through the early signs of withdrawals as she dredges up one foot in front of the other towards her building. She doesn't want to go in just yet, so, she sits on the curb and doesn't care that it's filthy.

Just like her.

Boys like Jay are never just friends with girls like her. And Misha's right. He's the all-American golden boy and she's the dirty mistress who's been sleeping with her stepfather. And she's so stupid for thinking for just one second that they could be more than just friends.

And to make matters worse, Charlie is getting out of prison.

_What the fuck is she going to do?_

_4:21am_

But, of course, it's only a matter of time before she starts craving the taste of heroin again; she has cigarettes for now to help with the uncomfortableness. She had bought it for the very reason.

She slips a cigarette between her lips and sighs in relief. Even after all these years, the smell reminds her of her grandmother, and it hurts, but in a good way.

In a good nostalgic kind of way.

Erin smoked her first cigarette the morning of her grandmother's funeral. She remembered the smell well enough; remembered how it used to stick to her clothes, to her hair, to the bed sheets. The taste of the tobacco was new for an eight year old, but not unpleasant, and it made her head buzz like she was restless and giddy with all this unreleased energy, like she had eaten spoonfuls of sugar.

She was careful to stub out the end and throw it in the trash, careful to wash her face and brush her teeth and change her clothes so Bunny wouldn't find out. She did not. Erin knew what cigarettes can do to people; her grandma used to joke about how the habit would kill her one day. They used to laugh about it together, puffs of smoke threading through the air between them.

Erin isn't laughing anymore, not when she accidentally drops a cigarette. And when she goes to pick it up, she drops eighteen plus more because that's how many she had left in this carton, she groans and curses.

Just her luck.

She picks them up one by one _(five-second rule)_ and stuffs them back haphazardly in the carton - hey, she's done worse things in life - and goes back to watching the streets.

* * *

_4:11am_

It's a cold November night, but that doesn't stop Jay Halstead from deciding to go for a run.

_Has he always been this proactive about fitness?_

Of course.

_And this early in the morning?_

Sure.

November is his favourite month to run, even though it's a bit dangerous (darkness, cars, and you know nothing good ever happens after dark). But he loves the crispness to the air at this time of year; loves the sound of the leaves crunching beneath his sneakers as he jogs between them, breathing heavily but evenly. It's cold but not too cold; not cold enough to deter him from running, but cold enough to feel the chilly fall air in his veins as he tests his physical endurance once more. The other benefit is the solitude; at this early, it's so quiet it's like he's the only men in the planet. He likes to be alone, just him and the stars above, as he contemplates his life and how it has taken such a turn.

If only he knew.

Less than six hours had gone by after his date with Erin and he realises that it was ridiculous to be feeling so worried that he couldn't sleep.

_So, why did he texted her?_

In the end, it was his weakness. He asked her about meeting up for breakfast and she still had not responded.

Jay frowns realising this now, and tries hard to suppress the big question - Why? Why has she not answered his texts? Why? Is everything alright?

He knows the answer. He just doesn't want to admit it.

_4:30am_

Turning the corner, he notes the small park that centres around where the current two roads intersect. There's not much to it; it's a few benches, a small fountain, an unkept children's playground, and then a ton of foliage which was all turning red, orange, and gold with the changing season. It is nearly pitch black, and the park has just one streetlight at the south corner and Jay thinks it's a bit eerie. That he's somehow ended up in Erin's neighbourhood. Subconsciously, he must have wanted to end up here. He shakes his head and continues on his path and away from her building, but does a double take when he realises a person is sitting at the edge of the curb.

_Did they have a death wish?_

Wait a minute. This 'person' is a woman, who is smoke a cigarette and wearing the same clothes he last saw her in.

He jogs his way over to her and she doesn't even look up. Just stubs out the cigarettes before lighting another one. It's clear from her frozen and hunched over frame that she's been here for a while. Her curls are crispy and a few strands frosted over with the beginnings of icicles, so it's pretty clear that her hair had been wet before she'd stepped into the frigid night. She's shivering violently, her entire body is covered in goose bumps, and her lips are turning blue. In that moment Jay curses himself for not bringing a jacket because, look at her. She's going to get hypothermia if he doesn't take care of this situation and fast.

"Jesus Erin," Jay exclaims, sitting beside her and immediately wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She feels like ice. "What are you doing out here? At this hour?"

There's silence for a while before she looks over at him, her eyes glassy. "It's cold."

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah. It is, Sherlock. It's like twenty-two degrees outside. Why aren't you wearing a coat?"

"I forgot it," Erin says, but her voice is lower, sharper, not normal and Jay's honestly concerned but he doesn't push. They're not there yet.

"Well, come on," he's about to stand up, holding her by the elbow to help her up, beginning to walk in the direction of her apartment but she just shrugs her arm away. "Let's go get some coffee, or something -"

"You texted," she says monotonously, staring at the ground and still shivering viciously. "Why?"

"I wanted to see you again."

"Why?"

"Because I like you."

And with that said, he sits back down with her and waits.

_Why?_

* * *

_5:07am_

She shakes out her sixth cigarette, then, touches her phone so she could look for the lighter with the illuminating light. Her fingers twitch over the edge and she locates the metal, cold and cool to the touch. Brushing it off, she cups a hand over her face to hide the flame from the wind's gasp _(Chicago is the Windy City for a reason after all)_.

_Because I like you._

Erin breathes in deeply, the smoke burning her lungs instantly and loving the feeling all the same. She exhales slowly and watches it dissolve.

The slow burning on the back of her shoulder has now become an itchy, excruciating burn but she doesn't go to scratch it.

Maybe later when she can't feel the Byron anymore.

"Just got back?"

She makes a noncommittal sound at the back of her throat as she takes another drag and hoping that she isn't blowing smoke entirely into his direction, "My stepfather needed me at his bar."

"He has a bar?"

"Yeah. It's on Morgan Street."

_Morgan Street._

He knows a bar on Morgan Street was the one. That Russianone they went to when they were working on their leads. He asked if they've seen Erin before and suddenly, a dread washes over him.

When they found her, she was hurt, badly beaten.

_Could it be his fault? Her stepfather had done it? Could he have?_

"PODMoskovye." he starts, hesitantly.

She was hurt because of him.

"Yeah. You've been there?"

The bruises were his fault.

Looking down at his hands, "Yeah. Kind of." he says.

Everything falls silent once again as they sit side-by-side, shoulders touching. The glow of the flame is like a wounded orange bird, small and flickering. Erin inhales, and the blackened ember at the end of her cigarette draws his attention for a moment. It burns so prettily, he thinks, then moves his gaze to her lips, muscles tensed to hold the cigarette in place, wrapped around vice. Even now, she still looks so forlorn.

What the hell happened in the time he left her and now?

_5:16am_

"Are you alright, Erin?" Jay asks, concern clear in his voice.

She gives him a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Mmhm. Fine."

* * *

_5:27am_

One of the human sensations Erin feels right now is pain. Apparently, it comes in diverse forms and frequencies. Sometimes it is skin tearing from skin, blood rising to the surface of abused flesh, bone crumbling into pieces … and sometimes it's frozen air greedily drawing heat from naked skin, acid creating a self-destructive storm inside an empty stomach, and one of the most confusing forms of distress she has ever encountered.

She feels burning pain, pain that funnels all awareness down into white noise and black vision and the one word searing out the walls of her throat and she's losing her grip on existence and her ears are ringing from all the blood spilling out of her and there's holes in her chest, her heart where they shouldn't be.

Another shaky breath. Her lungs hurt, the smoke teasing at her dry throat like sandpaper. Inhaling, she lets anticipation crawl up her chest, as she waits for the next smoke to burn her lungs.

Her stomach makes a growling sound, and she hugs it tighter. If she just wasn't so tired ... maybe she could actually eat something and not just smoke. But her body refuses to get up, even as she begs it to make the minimal amount of effort. Her eyes don't care to open either, not when they know that all they could see is the maddening image of the same, dark room.

She's so ashamed.

_5:30am_

"Reality is supposed to be black and white." she says it with a manner of certainty in her voice that can't be argued with. The way her face is set rings of confusion with a certain forlorn undertone.

"What do you mean?" Jay's brows furrow in bewilderment. Right now, everything she says has a certain cryptic value to it. She isn't the same as she was a couple of hours ago when he left her with her stepfather.

She shakes her head, silence enveloping them. For a moment, he almost think she's not going to answer him, and just like everything else in that category, he starts to file it under something so very Erin that he cannot understand it. But then she speaks again, this time her voice full of pain.

"Reality is supposed to be black and white." The cigarette in between them crumbles and the last embers die out. "But it isn't."

The words themselves are foreboding, but her tone is worse. It tugs at his heart, trying to break him apart. He wish he understood. He wants to understand. "Erin?"

Her green eyes slides shut for a moment and her breath whispers out from between her lips in a vague approximation of a sigh. She knows he don't understand and it frustrates her. "I see it now ... finally. The world, the way I see it is the truth. When I thought I was maybe seeing too much, I was only seeing what is."

Pieces of her words float through his mind, the underlying meanings as he have taken them appearing with venom in his head. She was happy. She was happy tonight. With him in their date, this is a whole one-eighty of emotions. And somehow he finds himself furious. Not at her. No. Never. "What happened?"

Again, she shakes her head. "If I say it ... there will only be more pain." When she reaches for another cigarette, he knows it has to be something really bad and painful. It's her sixth cigarette since he sat down with her.

His hand covers hers, holding it firm and their eyes meet. "Erin ... don't. You've had enough."

Her fingers tighten on the carton and she looks away. "You have no idea what I feel like right now ... how much I need this."

Actually she needs something stronger but until she get her hands on more coke and heroin, this will suffice for now.

There's a sheen in her eyes that can only be tears. It hits him that she wants to cry. If it's that bad, then he truly don't have any idea.

"Is it Noah? Is he alright?"

"Noah is fine." She closes her eyes.

_God, she hope so._

He let go of her hand and she extracts a single white cylinder, putting it to her lips and picking her lighter up from the ground. The flame flickers to life and she touches it to the cigarette, inhaling before simply watching the flame, her eyes glued to it.

White smoke filters up between them as she exhales.

"You have me, Erin. You can tell me anything."

The smallest of smiles tugs the corner of her lips and when she opens her eyes, it actually meets his.

There's a flash of pure pain in her eyes and he wonder for an instant if he's said the wrong thing. But then her hand turns to clutch at his own and she just shakes her head again. "Maybe."

"Not maybe. You do." Strength is laced into his words that he didn't even know he had. But the conviction of the statement is all the more than clear.

When their eyes meet again, she studies him for a long time. A soft laugh leaves her lips and she shakes her head again. "Reality isn't black and white."

He start to ask her again, what she really means. He knows there's meaning behind those word. But her voice cuts him off.

"Sometimes it's blue." Her hand wrenches free of his own and he watch the ash drop off the end of her cigarette like dying stars burning to dust. "And sometimes ... it's red. Like blood."

Erin just needs time alone ... her own time to figure out whatever it is that she is talking about.

Reality is nothing like she thought it was. It's more. Her words are nothing but a steady truth. Reality isn't black and white.

It is silent for the briefest of moments, the noiselessness brushing against their skin like a caress.

_5:45am_

"Oh. I never offered you one." she says quickly before reaching into the carton next to her, and pulling out two cigarettes. She hands one to him, and Jay just shakes his head. "Um. I don't smoke."

"Breathing is boring. C'mon."

He takes it, purses them between his lips.

There, he, a cop, had just been persuaded so effortlessly.

They lean towards each other to share the fire, to share the burn, and Jay watches Erin's face as Erin watches his. He wonders what she finds, because he cannot find anything but pain in hers at all.

He inhales, and tastes the smoke that tastes like dying. He doesn't exhale though, because it'd be embarrassing. Because he knows he'll start a cacophony, choking and sputtering like a dying fish. But he can't keep it in and she's staring at him expectantly, brows furrowing, and when he does let the breath out, he starts hacking his lungs out.

_Fuck!_

He feels it up his nose too.

Erin watches him and starts laughing, throwing her head back and shamelessly laughs. Genuinely. Laughing. And Jay comes to the realisation that he's never heard her laugh before.

 _Never_.

And so, he chuckles with her a little, just to test the water.

It is just the two of them, and for the first time tonight, Jay thinks maybe things could turn around. Finally. The thought of it brings a warm feeling to his heart.

Her laughter is fascinating, and to Jay, it sounds like music. Loud, unapologetic peals of high-pitched notes echoes throughout the street — a beautiful expression of joy. Her face reflects that, too. Like she had forgotten all that had her sitting on the curb in the first place.

Her eyes, sparkling, crinkled at the edges. Her mouth is wide open, no longer able to contain the eager happiness that rushed to escape her body.

 _Cute_ , he thinks internally, his face stretches into a smile as starts to laugh as well.

Laughing is the best medicine, he suppose.

But, as abruptly as Erin started, she stops laughing, her fit fading into an uncomfortable silence. Her entire visage falls, as though her world is crumbling down with it. Her face goes on to contort — her eyebrows presses together; her nose scrunches up and flares, bringing her upper lip along. As her chin begins to quiver, her teeth clamps down on her lower lip to stop the shaking. A lonesome tear slips out of the corner of her now-glistening eyes, then another and another on fast succession and before he knows it she sobbing terribly.

Jay just gapes at her when she lets out a choked breath, not knowing what on earth to do. She covers her her face with her palms, a cigarette still between her fingers, and there's a look on her face, like she just realises what's happening; that she's crying.

Erin feels utterly empty and there's no sustenance that can relieve her of true nothingness.

There is no redemption. Not for her, not ever. She doesn't even want it anymore. She doesn't need redemption. She had the reasons, she had the orders, she had the life that was needed to be given up, and so she did. So be it. For so long, she didn't allow herself to feel anything, and thus, she didn't allow herself to wish for anything for herself.

It is selfish to wish for the life of someone else's, now that she has Noah. It is wrong, all so wrong. And all the power she has is only enough to act as a puppet for her stepfather. Not for herself, never for herself.

There's a mangled cry as she wraps her arms around herself and he sees how hard she's trying to stop the tears, clenching her jaws tight together. There's a rip in the fabric of his soul. When she hurts ... he hurts.

His heart nearly breaks in half. Her face is tear-stained and she looks delicate and broken, like a porcelain doll, cracked raw and ragged. All she can do is shake her head before she tumbles over the edge again, fresh tears cascading down her cheeks and her shoulders shaking with sobs, her torn frame wracked with guilt and with grief.

"Erin, come here," Jay shakes his head, wrapping an arm around her and she leans into him.

He's rubbing her back when she says, "I feel so _trapped_ ," hoarsely before gasping, looking to him and covering her mouth like she have said something she shouldn't.

"Trapped?"

"No," she says monotonously, wiping her tears on the backs of her hands, "Forget it. Forget what I said. Okay? Forget everything about tonight. But thank you for - for," she repeats, motioning between them, "For this, I guess. Your company." she says quickly, standing up from where they had been sitting for the past hour, "Also, you really shouldn't be running out here. It's not safe ... Yeah, umm, goodnight."

He's not sure what to do or say. He's still very much confused and concerned and it all happened so fast. He continues to sit there and when she begins to walk towards her building, he doesn't even stop her.

* * *

_**Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this update.** _


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